Always Ahead
We live—but life runs on in restless haste;
Through back doors cut in doubt and hidden fear.
We clasp our hands when paths cannot be traced,
Or when the way must shift and reappear.
Forward compelled—no dwelling, never here.
So long as breath endures, and in the chest
The tireless smith, our heart, strikes true and deep,
With silver blows that will not grant us rest,
And forge the pulse no silence yet can keep—
So long we shape, in chess-like turns of mind,
That childhood game on asphalt, chalked in squares:
We leap their bounds with limbs outstretched, aligned,
Cast pebbles, test the balance that it bears.
Lest we should fall—we widen what we dare,
Add tricks, new forms, extend the fragile thread—
And so move on, until no longer there.
Scharlie Meeuws, a poet born in Germany, began writing at a young age. She studied in Spain and France, writing poems in Spanish and French before settling in England, where she co-owns Thorntons Bookshop, the oldest in Oxford. Scharlie’s poetry has been featured in magazines and anthologies, including the Guardian. Her work was recognized by Nobel Prize winner Vicente Aleixandre. Her most recent book is The Emotional Robot and Other Poems. Her poetry book Outbranching was published by Cerasus, London in 2021 and is available on Amazon.
A brilliant expression of the resourcefulness and resolve that life demands of us!
The title calls to mind the motto “Sempre Avanti!” used by some military units to describe their persistence in attack. Here of course it is personal, in the sense that the title refers to the human impulse to work and struggle and strive always, to never cease effort, to dare at all times.
I was especially pleased by the eleventh line, where an allusion is made to the childhood game of hopscotch (it may have a different name in the U.K.), in which the players have to make a series of jumps on chalked squares, based on where they have thrown a pebble. In America the thing thrown was a small but heavy metal square called a “pottsy.” I wonder if any readers here recall the game, which is no longer played by children who are mesmerized by their i-phones.
This is a wonderful poem about not just life itself, but about the West’s Faustian drive for achievement and power.
Dear Joseph,
Thank you for your comments! I like that you remember this wonderful game, also called Hopscotch here. I was addicted, at my time, to it. We children in Germany, where I was born, played it on the street with pebbles or marbles.it was a never ending pleasure, and also healthy, bein outside and moving the body. Sadly iPhones don’t do this.
This is just lovely. I especially like “The tireless smith, our heart, strikes true and deep,”.
Sharlie, I also remember the hopscotch game and played it in my youth. The chess-like turns seemed well-suited to a description of the game. Your poem is a refreshing take on life and living. The “tireless smith” was a particularly striking metaphor for the heart.
After several encounters with her work, I have come to the conclusion that Meeuws is incapable of writing anything trivial. As a veritable polyglot, she takes her English seriously, and once again I feel indebted to someone who really cares about what words can do.
Some great imagery in this poem. I especially liked the blacksmith imagery and the use of chess and hopscotch to compare our travels through life as an adult and a child.
Thanks for the read, Scharlie.