RICHARD DOIRON

RICHARD DOIRON

Prophetspeak

The Prophet speaks that all may hear,

But some are deaf and some are blind,

The message, then, not always clear,

As time will tell and we shall find.

Detached the One whose voice is heard -

No rolling stone that gathers moss -,

A mountain moved each sacred word,

The stream of life that's being crossed.

No tears are shed upon the Mount,

The climb be steep to seem no end,

The plea for peace that's paramount,

It matters not if foe or friend.

The Forestry Unfurled

Ignored at home it mattered not a whit,

the prophet up to usher in the dawn -

a broader world to see that picture fit

and know the mile that messenger was on.

The Universe its splendours to impart,

induced the sun to shine upon the earth,

with fields aflame to stir the human heart,

each man to know the reason for his birth.

Worn well the yoke upon that fellow's frame,

his every step to therefore take in stride:

alert and light the moth before the flame,

with fools alone supposing that it died.

Apart the oak the forestry unfurled,

amazing stuff the wonders of that world!

La Belle Surprise

Astonishment occurs we're feeling awed,

so much apprised we can't articulate,

conclusions drawn it surely must be God,

come down to earth his court to consecrate.

There would be truth within deductions made

to think in terms of Oneness holding sway,

with heaven high therefore on promenade,

the Universal All that rules the day.

Amazement comes upon the measured mile,

epiphany precipitous, extreme,

the "calling card" no less circumfusile

than if the Dawn itself lived out the dream.

La belle surprise is what the "flash" is for,

with not a doubt there always will be more.

To Wider Vistas Still

It starts with love (which heaven has decreed) –

forever found the answers that are sought –

but that we'd strive, believe we're up to speed,

allowed some play that always hits the spot.

We learn to laugh the lighter side assumed,

the comfort zone allowing for that "course,"

the book of life a poesy that's perfumed,

a friendship formed and never once by force.

Viewed openness as sedulous yet sweet,

while sunshine sweeps to wider vistas still -

heard opportunity that knocks, our feet

so passion-prone we'd never dance our fill.

Whilst paths pursued reflect on what’s discerned,

our part’s implied in everything that’s learned.

The Weaver Of Baskets

When the weaver of baskets

takes his wares onto the square

for selling, though he should

part with all of his wares that day,

still is he a weaver of baskets.

Therefore, it is he cannot leave

empty-handed.

Therefore, it is that he is found,

in going, as he was in coming,

his arm crooked, his voice lost

to rapturous singing.

RICHARD DOIRON

RICHARD DOIRON, New Brunswick, Canada. Poetry in print fifty years. Work published in over 100 books, anthologies, periodicals etc. Winner of numerous international literary awards. Graduate in journalism and Certified Life skills Coach.