Sunday, March 11, 2007

Consequences



Consequences

We never know the consequences
Of our actions.
Each foot-fall echoes in
The wood.
Our voices, in idle conversation,
Ripple out beyond the walls
Of the room where we talk.
The shadows lengthen
In the garden.
But there is something beyond
Mere chance.

And strangest of all is love.
When we make a new acquaintance,
And it is as though
We have known each other
All our lives.
And so we feel the hand of Fate.
Are we all ghosts
In each other’s dreams?
But I am solitary,
Haunted by voices,
In my head…
Nothing for me is left
To chance.

Christopher Baily
Sunday 14 April 5.15am

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