Spirit
As the lock on life finally clicks
And the hand that held the key is held up high
When its fingers point inward from the mix,
Is there the chance the dance of death might die
Before the closing speeches on the day
Conclude the teachers’ teaching is for those
Who know there is no truth in what they say
Only for what each of us already knows
That, just around the corner from where the spirit breathes
Lies understanding that no love loves, dies, then leaves?
Julian Nangle is 70 years old, is married and has had 5 children, and now has 11 grand children. He is a poet, publisher (as Words Press), rare book dealer (as Words Etcetera) and psychotherapist. He has been writing poems since he was in his teens and published some in the little magazines during the 60’s and 70’s. He has produced 4 collections of poems, the last being ‘Windfalls’ in 2014. He is poetry editor for the magazine Self & Society. In September 2017 he lost his youngest daughter to cancer which has prompted many poems relating to grief and loss. The poem published here is just one of them.
Amethyst Review 