Don't let them blow away

I walked out on a blowy day
I thought as I went along my way
At how the world is so full of people
Cars and houses too.
So many different clothes and faces
So many different colours and races

And then I felt a burden come
To know the meaning of this one
What am I, one man, to do
With so many souls
Just passing through?

So there I sat upon a bench
Until I thought my heart would wrench
I asked the Father to speak to me
What is my life supposed to be?

The the wind blew
Gusting strong
And all the leaves started racing along
They scurried and skipped
And danced and tripped

My thoughts were stirred
My gaze fixed upon
As if God had just
"where I blow....men follow along"
They have no choice but to live and then die,
To blow from here to where, and why?

In a lull, the wind abated
The rushing stopped, next gust awaited
A passer-by without asking why
Just stopped and picked up a tumbled leaf...
My heart skipped a beat
I leapt from my seat! 

Again the multitude raced by
And I quickly stopped one which caught my eye
Then I stumbled after the next
Gathering, laughing
Out of breath!

On and on they aimlessly raced
But I'd saved a few from an unknown place

To stop and hold these passing leaves
Brought great joy, at last, to me
I realised exactly what God would say
"These leaves are like souls...don't let them blow away".

Joe Morriss
2005

A Mother's touch

Beneath the morning grey she bends
Within her clasped hands coloured flowers
Whilst as the mourning grave she tends
And whiles away a lonely hour.

Her son, the grown man
No longer sees
What looking up she sees of him,
As sun falls through the autumn leaves
And the homely Robin sings his hymn.

A violet bunch of varied stems
Heather, Vetch and Tare
her aged fingers parting them
And placing each with care.

Each year remembered
This stony bed
A fragrant beauty feels
As life long ended rests its head
Where a mother's touch has healed.


Joe Morriss
October 5th 2014