The Wall Poem by Barry Middleton
The Wall
Not much room behind the wall,
a secret garden meek and small.
There a hermit takes his chair,
his frail protection from all care.
A stranger on the planet Earth,
bewildered since his day of birth,
retreated there to try and heal
the wounds of all of time's ordeal.
For living life was filled with pain,
the only choice was to abstain
and build the wall and only share
with those who took the other chair.
And few were those he ever graced
with refuge in his cryptic place.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:43:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Yes, hermits meditating in secluded place can only have room for the likes of those who will join the hermit.. Behind closed walls, sometimes, self-actualisation happens.. On a personal note, I can recognise with this poem.. I had spent a lot of time of my life (I know I am just 24, but at times I feel way older) just not being able to 'fit in' the usual hullaballo of life.. And then I came here and met so many wonderful people.. Strangely, the ones with whom I interract the most with, or those who has almost given me 'patronage' with their words, company, opinions, and critiques have been the elder lot.. Many of them are like the 'hermit' you talk about in this poem.. Very few people are 'graced' by them.. And I feel very proud to be given the opportunity to talk with them.. Thank you for sharing Barry.. Your poems are really the ones that of a deep thinker.. Thanks.
Thank you Souren. Nice to have you as a reader.