Eight Poems by John Drudge

 

The Path

 

Within

The cotangent

Of universal design

Where nature tends

Toward something else

In a process of attraction

And novelty

Beyond meaningless

Observation

To the cutting edge

Of the cosmos

Where we revel

In the order

Of connection

Toward higher states

Of universal breath

And the cutting edge

Of sheer complexity

As it Passes

 

The days are long

But the years short

First steps and birthdays

Skinned knees

And hurting hearts

Time trickling by

In slow streams

Of awareness

And endless bouts

Of broken attention

Currents against the wind

And boats on waves

Of memory

Searching forever

For the soft shore

Behind the Eyes

 

There’s a certain

Nebulousness

To certainty

Something always

Behind the curtain

Bat wings

On night air

A rolling rhythm

In the creases

Of time

A high hard moon

Lighting paths

Made of oak

And stone

In the quiet

Behind closed eyes

And the knowing

Of the moment

In the absorption

Of things

Gone

 

I bounce out the window

And I’m gone

Gone from everything

That bleeds foul grey

Gone from the chains

Of orchestration

Gone from the things

That don’t match my eyes

And the brain screws

That pinch behind

The frontal lobes

Beyond the toxic tension

In the town square

And the unravelled truths

That slither and slide

Over dry ground

In new reflections

Of loss and deprivation

Under the faint light

Of a new shrivelled moon

Here

 

It’s a subtle thing

The way we walk

Through time

The way we stand

Before storms

And welcome the rain

The way we rejoice

In silence

For just a moment

Where life requires

Surrender

And who you are depends

On what you resist

And all becomes quiet

In the art

Of noticing

In Venice

 

We were happy in Venice

And Venice treated us well

Our place was just off

The Grand Canal

In what used to be

An old post office

Corridors

And creases in time

Stone holding secrets

As a backdrop to history

Seaweed clinging

To time-stained palaces

And footsteps

Echoing with clarity

Down narrow streets

Masked desire

And gondola rides

And Hemingway still barking

In St. Mark’s square

On his way to Harry’s

For a quick drink

The lagoon filling

With possibilities

And the moon bright

With memories

The Veneto beckoning

Impossible marvels

Floating on the horizon

Like dreams on water

Peace

 

It sometimes

Comes to you

Sudden and alone

In waves of great joy

Or with the sight

Of big green trees

Or sunlight on the bay

Where the water is shallow

And the sand runs

All the way up

To the tree line

And the wind kisses dreams

In the stillness

Of sitting

Renewal

 

Every so often

Everything changes

And the planet erases itself

Without hesitation

Into the hope that attaches

To destruction

And renewal

Gone are the creatures

And the old sky

Gone is breathing

And the stars at night

Transformed

Into new eyes that peer

From new tides

Into new sights

On the horizon

Under a blind orange sun

John Drudge is a social worker working in the field of disability management and holds degrees in social work, rehabilitation services, and psychology.  He is the author of eight books of poetry: “March” (2019), “The Seasons of Us” (2019), New Days (2020), Fragments (2021), A Long Walk (2023), A Curious Art (2024) and Sojourns (2024), and Too Close to the Shore (2025). His work has appeared widely in literary journals, magazines, and anthologies internationally. John is also a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee and lives in Caledon Ontario, Canada with his wife and two children.