| Introduction Lost Dawns was written in 2007 and reflects a time when certain people, experiences and betrayals still occupied a considerable space in my thoughts. Through the leopard, tiger, wolf and ghost, I wrote about identity, deception, memory and the difficulty of understanding how people could seemingly change who they were while their past remained behind them. Nearly nineteen years later, those characters no longer carry the importance they once did. The memories have not disappeared, nor have the lessons they left behind, but time has changed their weight. I have come to understand that remembering something does not mean we must continue carrying it, and that learning from the past does not require us to remain within it. Another Dawn looks back at the same landscape from 2026. It does not attempt to change what happened or question what the younger man felt. Instead, it recognises that while some dawns really are lost forever, there will always be others waiting beyond them. Together, the two poems span nineteen years and a very different perspective on memory. Lost Dawns ends with the hope that tomorrow might somehow prove worthy. Another Dawn finally provides the answer: Tomorrow was worthy after all. |
| Lost Dawns I once knew a leopard, which became a tiger, And once l knew a wolf that became a ghost, The tiger was still a predator despite being a liar, And the spirit is still a wolf despite the new host, How can a leopard change its spots into stripes, And why would the wolf wish to disappear, I can only believe that it takes all types, And sometimes the actualities of life are unclear, When one chooses to change or hide the past, That doesn’t mean that it has truly gone forever, For some memories will always last, And are intended to stay on as a learning endeavour, The leopard can never change its spots until it dies, And the wolf will always remain alone, Death does not hide the afore lies, Yet the ghostly presence will always be home, The tiger wants to be remembered after, Yet the ghost never wants to be found, But the leopard, which became a tiger, is still a panther, And the wolf that died never recovered from its wound, Some dawns will never be seen again, and perhaps this is best, Whilst others will be forever etched into memory, Life, sadly, is just one extended test, And we can only hope that tomorrow’s will be worthy. © Rory Matier 2007 |
| Another Dawn The Second Verse I once knew a leopard, which became a tiger, And once knew a wolf that faded from sight, I carried their stories, their wounds and their shadows, Through many a morning and many a night. The leopard may never have changed all its markings, The tiger may still have remembered its prey, The wolf may have wandered beyond all my knowing, But none of them walks beside me today. For once I believed that the past must be carried, That memories somehow demanded their due, That every deception should never be buried, Lest somehow forgetting made falsehoods seem true. Yet remembering does not mean endlessly holding, Nor learning require that the wounds remain sore, Some lessons are kept without constantly folding, The pages back open to read them once more. The years have been kinder than once I imagined, Though kindness itself was not always their way, I’ve stumbled and fallen, rebuilt and continued, And somehow kept finding the start of each day. The leopard grew distant, the tiger grew smaller, The ghost lost the power it once seemed to own, And somewhere the wolf disappeared in the shadows, Whilst I found a pathway distinctly my own. I no longer wonder what became of their stories, Nor whether their endings were bitter or kind, For theirs were the roads they had chosen to travel, And mine was the road I was destined to find. Some dawns were lost and will never be witnessed, Some mornings remain in the chambers of mind, But neither can govern the days still before me, Nor darken each sunrise that follows behind. For life was indeed an extended long testing, Though perhaps that was never the whole truth at all, There were gardens to find and new seasons awaiting, And reasons to rise every time I would fall. So should I encounter a leopard or tiger, Or hear some lone wolf calling out before dawn, I’ll recognise footprints I’ve followed before me, But feel no compulsion to follow them on. For nineteen years later, the morning still finds me, And sunlight still rises wherever I’ve gone, I once hoped tomorrow might somehow be worthy… Tomorrow, it seems, was worthy after all. |
| Some poems are written for a moment in time. Others quietly wait for time to answer them. Echoes Through the Garden – The Second Verse revisits poems first written years ago, not to rewrite or replace them, but to continue the conversation. Seen through the eyes of a gardener, a naturalist and the passing of years, each original poem is accompanied by a new companion piece, offering fresh understanding shaped by experience, seasons and the quiet lessons the garden has taught. Together, they become two verses of the same story—one written then, the other written now. |
The Gardener's Curious Journal 