Big Rowan Ackison (greensh) wrote,
Big Rowan Ackison
greensh
  • Mood: contemplative

Poem - Take Not the Road

True story! I was going to shoot a performance event and then planned to go contradancing. I told my wife and she got a REALLY BAD feeling about it. This is not unusual as she is very intuitive that way. She sensed something happening later that night. I told her that I'd be careful and left to do the photo shoot. I attended the event, did my thing until about 9:00, and then got ready to move onto dancing. A friend came up and asked if I would shoot the band also. I did stay, and had a great time. One thing led to another, and I left for home at about 11:00. My wife reported that the feeling of doom left her at about 10:00, the time that I would have ruled out going dancing. Did I avoid an ill fate by staying? Did my friend keep me from harm by asking to photograph the band? Perhaps. I wrote a long, and hopefully decent, poem about the experience.


Take Not That Road
Poem for Day 062 – 201411224

Take not that road,
the one that leads to ruin.
Take not that road,
the one that leads to death.
So says the seer,
viewer of the future.
The time to come
is clearly in their sights.

I left the house,
a destination in my mind.
The seer was my spouse,
she worried fates most unkind.
The night was fluid,
two destinations I had in mind.
Both photography included,
But first to the art show divine.

Fire, fashion, and more:
fantastic music and acts galore.
I shot the Cirkus,
and snapped the fashion show.
Contra called me,
dance was beating in my blood.
The trip was never made.
To more pictures I was swayed.

Wasted Wine played on.
Discordia flashed steel and fire.
To these sights I was drawn.
My camera captured shots admired.
The Cirkus on again!
Partner acro, bed of nails,
to swallow and walk glass prevailed.
All done, too late to dance!

I headed home straight away.
The road led to my safety.
I took not the other road,
the one that lead to dance.
The story had a twist.
The unease had come to lift
at a time appointed
I could no longer dance.

Beware my friend!
Listen to the warnings in your life.
You may be cautioned,
perhaps by your lovely wife!
Take not that road
that one that leads to ruin.
Listen to the seer,
come back to the one endeared.

© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
Tags: inuitive, poem, psychic
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