blue hills and sparkling sea

Remember the good times



I gasp aloud

With twisted, half-open mouth,

The sea of pain presses me, crushes me,

The pillow is wet with tears.

I cannot, I will not

rise through my pain.

Why do I almost welcome

This soul-piercing agony

I know you are somewhere, Lord,

But my eyes see an empty land,

I feel just the weight of my pain.



The same in Finnish Sieluntuskaa

Vääristynyt suu avoinna


Tuskan meri painaa, musertaa,

kyyneleet kastelevat tyynyni.

En jaksa, en haluakaan,

tuskani alta ponnistaa.

Miksi melkein tervehdin

tätä kipua joka sieluani kalvaa.

Tiedän että olet olemassa, Herra,

mutta näen vain aution maan,

tunnen vain tuskani painon.




My son is asking


Why do you hurt


He is just one man,

What if he left

Why do you care

We are here together

Watching telly,

We have food, warmth, peace

A home of our own.



That's just as it is

We were one

In spirit and in flesh  (I believed)

Of course it hurts

When you are torn in two.

Punting on the Cam


Punting on the Cam

Down, low between the banks
Supported by the water
Drifting, slowly moving,
I feel narrowly confined
Yet one with a wide new world
Separate from all I have known.
I will possess the river for an hour.

Something pulls me down,
Something draws me up, nearer to the sky,
The sky that is so far,
At the end of a bright clear upward path,
The green dark light of a willow almost touches me,
Then the wide arch of the bridge moves over me.

In my  turn I stand up on shaky legs,
I lift the pole and water flows upon my arm.
The pole drops through my fingers,
Then, pushing, straining, the punt moves.
Twisting the pole, I pull it from the bottom
And steer, reining the punt like a horse.
Stepping up to the bank I feel strength and weakness in one.
I feel I could lift stone buildings,
Jump into the heavens,
Surely I haven't grown taller?

© Copyright  by Sirkka Stephens, 1970