Delivering the Thursday Poem

The Thursday Poem27 August 2020SHAKE YOUR FIST AT BEAUTYWe were hanging out in the thin winter sun at the Nelson Market the other week, Chapman and I. Reflecting on our not-so-youthful years, he made the comment that is the title of this week’s poem. Happy birthday Chapman. Dr Jeff Obadiah Simmonds put the video together. The opening image is a painting by Bob Dylan. Words below.Shake Your Fist At Beauty‘Shake your fist at beauty,’he said, from the shadowof his aging years, from the mist of those forgotten dreamswhere young women, dressed in their winter clothes, strolled past theplaces where once he had been.‘Shake your fist at beauty,’he said, from the weakeningof his arms, from the perspiration of the gymnasium, where young men and their six-packs and their biceps, tannedin the noon day sun, paraded past his once taunt body.‘Shake your fist at beauty,’he said, from the poundingof his lungs, from the sadnessdeep in his eyes, as they searched in vain for the mountain top where oncehe stood so easy, stoodabove the green bushand the river raging wild.‘Shake your fist at beauty,’he said, breathless at thesight of ten million starspinned just above his head,drawing from his lipsa whisper of worship,from his heart a longing to know the mysterythat is never fully known.Then beauty lifted him,in that moment that could not be defined, and he opened his hand, unclenched his fistand the scales fell from his beautiful eyes; beauty it wasthat had carried him andbeauty it is that has gifted him,all his aging years.Mark Raffills

Posted by Mark Raffills on Wednesday, August 26, 2020