The Field of Listening

i looked across the field

to see the pain, the hurt enormous

a landscape contoured with fear

here one stood to guard a little patch

there another striving to fulfill a dream

still another, digging, always digging

then the quiet ones, the locked away ones

the ones that seemed faraway, distant or gone

as if they lived here physically but elsewhere in reality

for them

occasionally a flicker of recognition

that reality is here not there

and they begin to move, explore

and then again, be bound by the field of pain

little islands lived, seemingly free of pain

little islands that are different

bright in their warmth, depth and peace

little islands that seemed to be

oasis

the field encompassed them, surrounded them

little tendrils of pain reached into them

some almost shattered with deep veins of hurt and pain

but somehow they survived

little islands of peace and harmony, laced and entwined with pain

an island flickered out, one more gone

engulfed by the waves of fear and pain

the field, one day, would win

and all would live in pain

here and there harbingers thrived

drew pleasure from the pain

and played on the fears of those around them

sang songs of failure and hurt

and for them the islands were a blight

to be conquered, to be sundered through

how could some live, truly live, among the pain

and choose not to fear, continue on

they had to be broken, to succumb

far, far away an island began

one chose not to fear

another chose that too

an island of hope rose from the sea of pain

now that i saw one, there were many more

the field of pain was always changing

more islands emerging

some islands gone

in my hope i saw, all would not live in pain

the little patch

the dream some strive to build

the hole that’s been dug and dug

battered from all sides

bruised from defending their patch

i look at the islands and wonder

why

are they

fools who will all break

dreamers who will transform the field anew

stubborn, willfully going their own way

arrogantly ignoring the field around

the patch is yours, the world that you've created

everything you have

everything you've eked from the field of pain

but there must be more, there’s always more

and fear demands to ease it’s fear, go take forever more

i watched one move among the masses

stopping along the way

listening, conversing, battered, even broken

it was as if, enduring the pain

but never being filled with the fear of the pain to come

there was a blindness to them, an unseeing

one confronted with a harbinger

offered, gave, listened

and the harbinger shrunk back

this one would be hard, this one would be tough

better to destroy the oasis than to tackle this one

i turned to my neighbour and listened

i took some of what they had dug

together we delved in the pain

immersed ourselves in the fear that surrounded us

and chose over fear, to love

unseeing, we became blind to the fear that our neighbours all felt

and began building something together

i hate seeing pain, but i am who i am

in the total dark i can walk through the field

drawn to the pain

waiting for that moment, that incredible moment

when fear seems so far away

and we can build

those around me can build and i can feel safe

none of us though can stay at an oasis

we are always drawn to move along

trusting that those that remain and build them

will nurture, grow, treasure them

trusting that though they are laced and entwined with pain

they will grow in depth, brightness and joy

again

i look across the field of pain and see hope and wonder

i smiled, moved, drawn forever on

looking back i see an oasis where there wasn’t one before

if only i could go back

if only i could go back to that island

an oasis of joy, peace and harmony

live out my life on an island

but going back can never be

(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2015 (written Jan 2015)