I Don’t Fear the Night

for my children and grandchildren

I don’t fear the night.
The ocean ebbs. The sun sets.
After the day comes the dark.
So too this body must decline,
yield, slump and fall
before the overlord, Time.
His reaper will come. He must.
The leaf falls, the stump rots.
All living things turn to dust.

No, I don’t fear the night,
Yet if from the last sleep
I never in rebirth arise,
though the great gift
be granted to other eyes,
then let it at least be said
that in this life of flesh and blood
he grew in spirit and mind,
judged none but self,
sought and strove to forgive,
desired justice, was merciful and kind
and grew in patience and in love
despite the ravages  of time.

 

 

 

Neil Creighton‘s work as a teacher of English and Drama brought him into close contact with thousands of young lives, most happy and triumphant but too many tragically filled with neglect. It made him intensely aware of how opportunity is so unequally proportioned and his work often reflects strong interest in social justice. His recent publications have been in Prosopisia, Poetry Quarterly, South Florida Poetry Journal, Silver Birch Press, Social Justice Poetry, “whispersinthewind333″ and Verse-Virtual, where he is a Contributing Editor. He blogs at windofflowers.blogspot.com.au

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