Another Poem

On our wedding anniversary in May of 2007 I wrote this poem to celebrate our thirtieth year.

 

ANNIVERSARY

 

May is the most hopeful of the months

With last blush of summer roses

And mist gathering on the sides of ridges,

Dew heavier every morning on the grass

The last pale strawberries appear on the vines

And the tuis have come down from their summer feeding.

 

February looks back to that piece of paper

And the flagstaff on the lawn we walked together

When we were young

Hope there only when people can sit under the tall

Old trees together and talk the years by.

 

March echoes the shouts of the landing boats

John and William and Henry, yes and Joshua too,

Coming all that way on those three little ships

To find green country with the stately mountain backdrop

In the fine, calm, sunny autumn days.

 

And there is no great hope in an Autumn Easter

Where death gets the largest slice of the action,

No-one walks on water these days

Or turns water to wine

Miracles our grandparents knew we take for granted.

Anzac Day returns year after year in April

But we do not learn the lessons our ancestors died to teach us

The hope we felt in youth has faded and

Peace wilts again and again.

 

We have lived down thirty Mays!

Each one a milestone on the journey

A catch of a song

A glimpse of coloured leaves against a blue sky

The last warmth before the winter.

 

What can we see from looking back?

We were not first in Boston, New Plymouth or Auckland

Though we ran them a close second in all three.

The real winners are still in the future:

Generations will tread the soil of a new world

Some may reach before the rest and

Plant our seed in a different earth

Or retrace the steps of all their forefathers

To the Tamar, or the Severn or somewhere along the Thames.

 

Fighting upstream, against the tide,

With halyards screaming in the contrary wind

To a landfall far from these warm waters

And havens from storms we never knew.

 

They will arrive, as we did,

Wide-eyed with wonder

In a new century, side by side,

Holding on to hope and a friendly hand

While the dream turns gold in their faces.

 

May was rose-coloured for us thirty years ago

Each silver lining clear along each cloud

Thirty chapters are closed and the new page

Already bears the opening lines of Chapter 31.

 

We were young then and strong

Now the weaknesses catch us out

Every day a new stumbling

Every day a new failure.

The youngsters we carried then

In back pack or on hip now hold us up

They direct our eyes the way

They want us to go.

 

But we will not relinquish our own dream

Altogether; we will still strike out

Towards the sunrise – slower now

And with less baggage than we had

But still resolute, singing still,

Knowing the goal

And undeterred by the state of the road

Or the weariness in our muscles.

 

May is the most hopeful of the months

With the first chill in the air

Reds, yellows and browns on the exotic trees

And the faces of the people in the street set towards next summer.