Inspirational and meditative 8 x 10 inch image for digital download on Etsy. Ideal for wall art and hanging.
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
‘Stillness, Tranquility, Serenity, Peace’ Meditative Words and Imagery
Tag: clouds
‘The Silence’ — a poem
The gentle rush of rain
breaks the silence,
soon joined by the cat lapping —
unseen.
Then both are gone;
I watch the miles thick cloud
parading overhead,
dark autumn leviathans
shunting in from the west. Yes,
sometimes the silence gets to me,
it isn’t what I crave.
A silent mind is creative, some say,
then how is darkness a friend?
Copyright Francis Barker 2020 — a creator fond of poetry
Haiku: Weeping Sky
Haibun: A 2020 Vision
He took me up high into the clouds
to show the four corners of the earth.
As far as the eye could see,
the great extent of the cosmos –
the perfection of His design.
Then I knew this was no accident.
My destiny was written;
to be present to witness the coming change.
Waking up is birth
Vast vision lays out the truth
Glory eternal
copyright Francis Barker 2020
Haiku: On Clouds
Remember that face
Features unmistakable
On clouds descending
copyright Francis Barker 2020
‘Clouds’: Sunday Thinking
I believe you were calling me,
that young boy lying on his parents’ bed,
dreaming on clouds and patches of sky,
reading parables while others were out riding,
fishing or up to some other mischief.
I was alone, a misfit, a seeming solitaire
who was later gifted a wife and a son,
my greatest treasures. I hope that they,
through my eccentric faith
which has wandered far, will be
blessed too on that awesome day when
different clouds will descend from heaven’s blue.
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Haiku: The Waiting Game
Sitting on our hands
Waiting for the clouds to clear
How long must we wait?
copyright Francis Barker 2019
Poem ‘Flux’
The window is
ajar,
just enough to
let in some air, to
tantalise the cat
hooked by
night’s soft invitation.
Something outside
is burning, hangs
in the yielding light, though
I’ve never
seen those crimson clouds
phase
to dusky pink
and then to grey.
It’s a flux which
eludes me
every time.
Magic, you might say,
like being in space,
and now
© copyright David F. Barker 2012
Poem: ‘August in Yesteryear’
Summer was once ices poles and living
on bikes; we were free like swifts
screaming circles in the air. Greens
were for football and teams twenty a side,
roads for playing cricket, where cars
were stalling aberrations. We lay
on lawns watching clouds, minds unfettered
in those zenith blues; guilt
and care belonged to
some other world and school
might well have been
beyond the moon.
Only later came guitars with boys’ awakenings;
serenading neighbours
sunbathing in the yard, or the shock
of full moons rising late in the day. We really
thought we had credence, like southern
Skynyrd boys, singing in that
sultry heat with school coming at us
like banks of cloud, the football season
begun and cricket nearing its end,
watching shadows gathering
where the sun once shone
poem © copyright David F. Barker 2012
Poem ‘Subliminal’
Subliminal
They put it up on billboards.
It made the headlines,
the tickers scrolling in Times Square
and TV screens back home.
It was like hearsay going viral,
became banal talking points
in satellite drivel,
a tsunami of information
which hid the pearl of truth.
This notion that everyone
who has ever lived
could be alive again today,
our eight billions souls
matching totals for the past;
all of us primed, exposed
for some terrible judgement.
How many saw the subliminal flash,
I’m not sure;
reputedly like an ad,
the split second image of cola
that wets your thirst,
though not on screens – in the sky.
A judgement? No ceremony, no glitz,
no alarming lord riding the clouds.
But word quickly got around,
between lines of copy,
in the things not said.
Tickers in Times Square
stuttered, then stopped;
people draining away
like water down plug holes.
Wi-fi was gone,
it’s just something else
we can’t grasp in the air.
The only tickers now
are the clocks, our watches,
while we keep one eye
on the sky
poem and image © copyright df barker 2012
Poem ‘Adventus’
Adventus
I wake up
and the world has changed
there’s a strange quality to the light,
lurid colours of the sky creating
anthropomorphic shapes in clouds,
warnings weaved through vapour trails
like a painting by Roerich
I hear the blackbird
he’s singing a new song,
displaced by the cunning air
in an odd synchronicity
which cavorts with my mind,
a nameless advent
a voice in my head
says to ignore the news,
make a lover of the duvet
and I resolve play Vaughan Williams
around the clock,
cry out my heart to his glorious fifth
till that sweet second
to midnight comes
poem and image © copyright dfbarker 2012
abstract image created digitally.
