Paul Brookes’ ekphrastic prompts (Boze burger by Marcel Herms and Cool Jeremiah by Terry Chipp) seem somehow very relevant for today. At least my poem seemed to think so.

 

Finding the north

And when the dust has cleared
and the cheering’s done,
when the victor’s corpse has raised clenched fist
and been carried over the ropes,
when the prophets are revealed as crack heads,
their graffitied texts washed clean,
will we find the way?

The north still draws those who know,
who listen to the pull of the earth
and whisper to the over-arching sky,
we do, we will, we are,
those who, like the homing geese,
take the broad world in their hands and say,
this and only this matters,
the turning of life and more life,
sheltered beneath soft wings.