Sometimes – Sheenagh Pugh
Sometimes things don't go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don't fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.
A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can't leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.
Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.
……………………
This was sent to me this morning from a close friend, whose instincts for the right words at the right time is unerring. It seems to me to be one of those poems that contradicts the one damn thing after another syndrome that grows out of negativity become chronic, and we are convinced there are far more valleys of deep darkness than green pastures or still waters. Sometimes it's not as bad as we think, or feared; sometimes we do get it right; sometimes we are merely looking for the wrong things, in the wrong place, or in the wrong direction, so that we miss the good that is there to be seen. But yes, sometimes life does have ambushes, hidden trip-wires, unforeseen circumstances, and recurring disappointments. But then again, sometimes……
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