Steve Taunton Poems

Panel I. A Turning in My Path

Midway this life we’re bound upon,
I woke to find myself in a dark wood,
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The cool mornings have been good to us,
Though the sun seems no less blinding.
Our baskets were heavy last year
Laden from the hillside terraces,
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The artist’s landscapes outstretched
My southern train crossed canals
Crossed burning beams of a setting Noord Zee sun.
Flat polder lands joined royal ink
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Even then, in those multi-grey evenings,
As the dusk was deepening in narrow paths
That had earlier pulsed, the town’s gentle life,
Growing calm, as the valley filled with whitened night,
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As the blazing sun sinks away behind us, so the furies
We flee shrink to specks on our minds’ horizon.
Dryness parches our lips as we drift from the river;
Our teeth grind on the desert dust.
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Sunlight shimmered through the vines:
Wandering, I moved to touch
Those that my eyes have chosen,
Those that stand within my field.
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Now is not the time for the pipes and muted drum,
Let the bells ring with joy!
Here is the bridegroom, let the bride come;
The Lord be with you;
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The women decided that we must go,
Packing our evening tea,
To the lawns at the head of the cliffs,
To a view of the lighthouse.
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