The Sanctum of Sanity

To my wife on our move to a new home in the country

Have we now found Utopia, Shangri-La?

Call it what you will

It still,

Is just a state of mind,

Where we will find

But what we make.

Take our new view

Of undulating pastures green

And of trees seen, and loved.

Horizons far and space to run;

Where fun is rediscovered,

And the sun,

Whose cloud tossed light

Makes landscapes flow

With bright

And sometimes darker hues.

Will blues pursue us here?

Will fears,

Of what has been

Or what’s to come

Create fresh landscapes
for our desperate tears?

For I doubt if the mere presence of a view

Can be the instrument to build our life anew,

And kinship with the earth

Means no rebirth

Of feelings dead or dying.

But as the sighing wind can welcome sunshine,

Or betoken calm before the storm,

So can our love, both cool and warm

Find here a new beginning,

Or an end.

© James Rainsford 2011

Note to readers: Posted as my contribution to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.

The above was written at a pivotal point in my marriage when the relationship was in a precarious and uncertain balance. 

The line dividing those relationships which succeed and those which fail are frequently thinner than a razor. I hope I've managed to capture something of the frailty and regret which can characterise the death of love. 

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Kind regards to all who visit here. James.