Tag Archives: Remembrance Day

Creating Encounter in Colour: Red and Black

I was not going to write a post this week. Honouring the dead with silence seemed more in keeping with the centenary of the end of WW1. Having recently completed a novel about that conflict, the horrors of it are all too fresh in my heart and mind. But, I felt moved to write this. Lest we forget.

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I stand on the battlefield, careworn and weary with my own soldiering, sheltering my palmful of treasure. I cannot know the horrors that drench this earth, but I will still stand here with you, shifting the weight of my ignorance from foot to foot, my hand curling around the black dots, waiting for the right moment to release them.

I will keep silence for just this little while, when you have kept it a hundred years. And when I am soaked in the greyness of the clouded sky, and the countless white crosses have floored my heart, I will close my eyes and feel the solidity of the sadness in this land. It rises up through my soles, it tugs childlike at my humanity, it wrenches my gut, it bayonets my heart.

And when that song of your untimely end has pained its way along my living sinews, and shuddered my synapses, and made me remember you, only then will I say, “Lord have mercy,” and throw my poppy seeds into the harsh November wind, that they might be carried like you by chilly winds of chance, and thrown into the mangled mud of no-man’s land, the possibility of red resurrection always there, bright flowers on unmarked graves and trampled terror.

Text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt  Photo from Pixabay

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Landscape of Love 98: Poppy Field

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Yellow bricks just visible if you stand and look at your ruby boots, rapidly disappearing now under the blanket of snow that swirls in flurried flakes, mini-cyclones like the one that brought you here, so long ago. And the way is lost now and the cold soporific sleeting sways itself down in tiny feathered hammocks brushing your weary skin. Sleep is called for, and a soft silent space, where dreams may dare to shine rays into reposing forms. The red softened to pink blooms by tears, by failing strength, and slowly, one by one, we fall down and are covered.

 

© Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2016

Artwork by and © Bev Wilson, used with permission.