Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

A step ahead, twenty-two backwards
The river bed, so wide and tame
The coo-coos call
Which way is forward
Does any know?

A truth retold
From days of old
The way ahead the forward route
But how is it that all said and done
My arrow points this way and that?

Is it the wind that blows and howls ?
For like a dog left on its own
Hungry and cold, forlorn and old
Its wails do reach the depths of heart
That once didn't know
Which way home is.

Oh, quit the jokes
Yes, quit the thoughts
That for the failed, "It was their fault"
Please look again
Which wall caved in
And in its wake, buried the sign
To lead us home.

It weren't because they could not read
And was not because they didn't dream.
The dreams they had, maybe too much
The lines they read, even between
Committed souls lost in the hope
That sure one day, the flag would stay
So they would tell which way was home
But lo, the wind stole all the signs.

I grumble not, complain I don't
My pain I hide inside the heart
Where bleeding cleans the wounded dreams
One day to kill the killer bug
That gnaws each day, my youth to rob
That in the end I may be waste
Oh, my best friend
Please tell me now, where next to step.

The land and Sea
The air and all
Reek everyday with mines of old
Mines filled with rage that I exist
Ho, ho, ho, Christmas is not
The only time I celebrate
Somebody's birth
For mine sure is a miracle
To live and do the Father's will

He will now keep the arrow strong
E'en though I fell, now I arise
New day, old dream
New strength, old heart
Repaired, equiped to cope and deal
With all deceivers' tricks and deals
I do see now, with eyes of faith
The stepping stone, clear as the spring
That flows from high and
Sings "just follow me"
This way is home; this way is forward.