Rooted In Time
Refinding the motivation to write. I stumbled across a reference to T.S.Eliot who was born 26 September 1888. It made me consider why Wasteland is an important poem...because it reflects on a moment in time that then opens up into a universal truth which transcends time
What is the pointIf not rooted in time?Of these words upon pages,This metre and rhyme. If all that it doesIs say something quite vague,Instead of talking of loveThat came out of a plague. Or a sense of belongingThat came out of war,When we clung to our neighboursWhilst they settled their score. Or the love of a petAt a moment of loss,The last trip to the vet,Past the crossing we'd cross. Or the pool of mixed feelingsTowards someone we care for,As they pass their examsOr are with us no more. To just simply love,Or just simply hate,With no place or time,No context or state, Can be anyone's story,Can be anyone's rhyme,But a feeling expressedIn the context of time Is what made The Waste LandAn extraordinary thing,Brought The Tyger to meAnd gave V its sting. And so I stopped simply scrawlingAnd writing things down,Until a moment in timeBrought the words crashing down. So they fall into placeIn a moment in time,Each word of that momentRebuilt into rhyme.