Maps

Here’s an appropriate poem, for Spring Break, as my son Jude and I will undoubtedly be looking at….Here’s an appropriate poem, for Spring Break, as my son Jude and I will undoubtedly be looking at….

Maps

Carrying maps we move
Through battlegrounds and trails,
Roadways, displays and
Museums built of alabaster
On swamps in cities marked with
European names

Following blue lines, red circles
Street signs and highway markers
Compass points and scale
Measuring distance between places
And distant constellations
That will one day disappear

Slipping into another form
Catching glimpses of the future
Cherished and held in
Our collective past, pressed
Between magnetic pages
Reframed and then…reclaimed

Pulling on my sleeve, he’s
Always looking up, always,
Even when I lose my way
In all cardinal directions
And happen upon a clearing
Beyond my imagination

Where lightning grows quiet
And waterfalls rise
And colors disguise
The reversal of time
Senseless with meaning, always
Perfectly cast together
 

 

Published by Doug Hoekstra

Father, wordsmith, musician, creative.

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