Living on the Edge of Nowhere

Nobody knows where the end of the road is,
We just keep walking around the next bend,
Nobody wants to know how heavy each load is,
We just keep hoping all this hurt will soon mend,
Fathers are falling, mothers are weeping,
Children are creating rainbow dreams,
Whispered prayers seem empty, silence comes a-creeping,
Maybe even love is no longer what it seems,
But somehow hearts keep beating, telling us we have to care,
And so we look to distant skies, just living on the edge of nowhere.

Nobody knows what tomorrow might bring for us,
Every day presents another fight,
Nobody wants to miss the angel who might sing for us,
The smile that could put all the bad things right,
Stories are ending, pilgrims are resting,
Seasons are retreating, all confused,
Flowers spread their colours, birds continue nesting,
The poet’s pen is still the one most used,
So every step we take alone is one more promise to share,
As we leave our prints and shadows, just living on the edge of nowhere.

Never let the real dreams die,
Never drop your arms,
Love will always rise and try
To spread its magic charms,
Fools may tell you this and that,
Still others shout and preach,
But no one knows where wisdom sat,
Dark places out of reach,
Now all the self-styled emperors
Look foolish standing naked,
Truth-tellers just ignore false terrors,
Knowing deep down what is truly sacred.

Nobody knows all the answers we’ll be chasing,
Each trail will take us on a little nearer,
Nobody wants to think about the life we’re tracing,
The shadows vanish fast to make it clearer,
People are still standing, creatures are reviving,
Landscapes fill the spaces left to fade,
Abandoned hopes are spreading, willingly surviving,
Fulfilling every promise ever made,
So in the end the truth is plain, we are all always somewhere,
And so we move as life goes on, still living on the edge of nowhere.

 

Peter Dietrich: “The poem is from a new collection I am working on, after completing a collection of 65 poems entitled FORTY DAYS & FORTY NIGHTS, and a second collection entitled INBETWEEN BEFORE & AFTER, several of which have been published in various literary magazines. Written with a formal style and musicality, some of them might be recited with a musical accompaniment, as was often the case in Ovid’s day, and 2 of them have been developed and recorded as songs.

“Originally from the UK, and after travelling the world non-stop for over 40 years as freelance reporter/film-maker, writing non-stop all the way in various forms, I feel it a good moment to pause and try to see some of my more personal writings read and published.”