Letting Go, a Song of Twilight

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

This poem is from my general poetry archives for July 2014.

Regular readers will know that Hampstead Heath is not far from where I live. Read about it at:

http://www.hampsteadheath.net/index.html

- and find some poems under the 'Culture' heading

& .hear one of my Heath poems - the very first one - (On Hampstead Heath) on my YouTube channel:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1z_NiNpRQw&t=114s

Now, I have often said on my blogs that letting go of the past and moving on does not necessarily mean leaving anyone or anything behind.

In my experience, the moment of letting go and placing it in the time capsule we call Memory is invariably as intense as it is exquisite; intense, because it is so personal and so exquisite for being so highly charged with the bitter-sweet smells and tastes of recollection, the inner eye selecting the best of the best while tactfully (or conveniently) skipping the worst.

This poem is a villanelle.

LETTING GO, A SONG OF TWILIGHT

On Parliament Hill, I let go of a kite
and watched it drift over London
till just a speck of summer twilight

I felt humbled by the glorious sight
as if I were sailing heavens;
on Parliament Hill I let go of a kite

Fair, copycat bird in graceful flight
filled me with awe and inspiration
till just a speck of summer twilight

The faintest star, harbinger of night,
tracking me down Memory Lane,
on Parliament Hill, I let go of a kite

Empathising with passing daylight,
gripped by a sense of hanging on
till just a speck of summer twilight

Putting wrongs aside (if not right),
time enough for celebration...
On Parliame