I believe in reincarnation and have given the subject much thought over the years. This poem came to me today (Monday) while listening to Christmas carols on you tube. Yes the Grinch likes carols.
A Laneway Dark.
Beneath my eyelids fluttering closed,
I see a long, well travelled road.
A laneway through a forest dark
then into grasslands, a meadow park.
The path is worn from countless feet
I travel here, for there are friends to meet.
The ones I knew in times long past.
From when I sailed before the mast,
the people that I loved and knew
before I slipped ‘neath the ocean blue.
The wife and sons who stood by me,
when I was hung from the gallow tree.
And what you ask, the heinous crime,
protecting what was rightly mine,
The soldiers who stood in trenches deep,
and joined with me for the final sleep.
My spirit flew, free and bold
then wept in a tiny cottage cold.
My mother and fiancée young,
they’d yet to know my song was sung.
The picture on the bare stone wall,
of my father, brothers, a fearsome toll.
These men of courage, the war had taken
leaving two lonely women, bereft, forsaken.
A sprig of holly, red berry bright,
reflecting a single candle’s light.
They didn’t know then, that I had gone,
that death at Christmas, well, he had won.
That I would be laid under foreign soil,
and they too would perish, with no one to toil.
I glanced around and stared at each face,
as they huddled by the fireplace.
I saw the pure white driven snow,
brought by northern winds that blow,
from highland mountains, ragged, grey
on this fateful, wretched, Christmas day.
I’ve met them all I’m sure, since then,
a knowing, an understanding, if you ken.
We’ve travelled that long and dusty lane,
and here we are, all back again.
Laurie Smith© 2013