Monday, 7 March 2022

When It's All Over

 

 

Nicholas Hely Hutchinson

 

When It's All Over

 

I'm going to throw open my windows and yell: 'hallelujah',

dial up friends in the middle of the night to give them

the glad tidings, e-mail New South Wales and Pacific Palisades,

glorify the kitchen by making sixteen summer puddings,

watch blackberry purple soak slowly into 

the bread and triumph over the curved glass of the bowls.

 

When it's all over I'll feed my cracked skin

with lavender and aloe vera, lower my exhausted body into

foaming cream, clear honey and let it wallow,

reward it with a medal, beautify it with garlands of thornless roses

wrap it in sleep,Then from the tents of blurred dreams

I'll leap like a kangaroo, spout like a whale.


Once it's over I'm going to command my computer to bellow

'Land of Hope and Glory', loudspeaker my news

down these miles of orderly streets where the houses wear

mock Tudor beams and plastic Greek columns, dance

the Highland Fling in front of controlled tubs of cockerel geraniums

sigh with enormous satisfaction when I make the evening headlines.


When it's finally over I'm going to gather these fantasies,

fling them into my dented and long-lost college trunk,

dump it in the unused cellar

            climb back to strength

                        up my rope of words.


Myra Schneider

 

Gabriele Munter

Yes, when it's all over. That's my effort against cynicism right there. It's easier to be cynical. Hope is harder. And optimism feels downright ridiculous considering what has happened in this country these last years. 

But in order to stand, the people need a vision, a goal. Like Martin Luther King Jr., we need a dream. 

Imagine what feasts we're going to lay out. What gatherings of unlikely souls we're going to join. What numbers of strangers we will laugh with and embrace. What spontaneity of gestures and stories we will tell. What singing there will be in the streets. What upwellings of thankfulness and generosity will be shown. What praise will be given to God. What reunions will be enacted among us.

It's not easy to envision when the opposite plays out before our eyes. 

But as Good Denys says,"Courage, mon ami! La diable est mort!"

Let's prepare.

Let's dream against the dark.


 

 

 

 

 

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