Friday, December 18, 2015

Fog on the Fringes

by Mark Fotheringham


Rising from darkness, up toward the light,
Why am I ever engaged in this fight?
Why don't I stay where the sun always shines,
Instead of retreating to shadowy climes?

Climbing the mountain, too often I stall.
Flirting with danger, I slip and I fall.
Can't seem to endure celestial heights,
Preferring the valleys and much dimmer lights.

Am I just a fake, am I just a fraud,
Calling on God, then releasing the rod?
Stumbling forward, forgetting to pray,
When left to myself, I will soon lose my way.

Fog on the fringes, obscuring my sight,
Gathers around me to swallow the light.
Turning again and again seeking grace,
I find it here, smiling, from one perfect face.

Leading me back to a more perfect road,
Hope reignites as you lighten my load.  
You hover above me, gently, sublime.
I reach out to touch you, and then start to climb.
.

My neighbor Kevin Pace decided this poem could be set to music.  Here is the result:
(last 4 lines are repeated at the end)


4 comments:

  1. Very nice, Mark. I like the dactyllic cadence (/uu...), and the rhymes are fine (natural, unforced). Great topic. Amazing poem. The Fotheringhams are such talented writers, essayists, and poets. Keep writing. AND THanks for sharing. --Your old teach.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks Wes. Always great to hear from you. Family members are the only others who ever read this stuff, but they HAVE to like it, right? So I appreciate the outside validation.

      By the way, this poem was recently set to music (piano - mp3), which I have now posted at the bottom of the poem.

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  2. I love your poetry, Mark. Keep it up!

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