Symphony’s silk is set to rise at dawn

Adrian Harper-Gomm will read out his poem to honour diggers at the Narre Warren Anzac Day Dawn Service. 119158 Picture: ROB CAREW

By BRIDGET COOK

ADRIAN Harper-Gomm will stand proud at the Narre Warren Dawn Service on Friday as he reads out his tribute to the brave soldiers who fought for Australia.
A testament that the Anzac spirit and the sacrifice the diggers made has not been forgotten among young people, the Cranbourne North teenager wrote a poem last year in their honour.
Adrian, 17, has now been invited to read out his poem – Silk Rain Symphony – at the Dawn Service at the Casey Civic Centre on Friday.
It all came about after Adrian entered the poem into the council’s Fresh Words writing competition last year in which he was named a finalist in the poetry and lyrics category.
Adrian said the poem was his way of honouring all those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.
“Anzac Day remains one of the most important national occasions of both Australia and New Zealand, therefore the Anzac legend is an inspiration not only to myself but to today’s society,” he said.
“I imagined what it would be like for the soldiers during the First World War.
“I thought about how they may not have wanted to fight; they were soldiers but they were also human and this is where I drew my inspiration from.
“I feel extremely honoured to have been given the wonderful opportunity to read out my poem at the Anzac Day Dawn Service in front of veterans and members of the Casey community, as well as in memory of those that have fallen.”

Silk Rain Symphony:

Death upon the hill;
There is no movement, the soldiers dead and still,
Limp in the dirt and detriment of the war,
The survivors left to wonder, if there is anything worth fighting for,
But they are ordered to continue, to fight for the greater cause,
So with their heads bowed, they trudge on taking a moment’s pause,
Then they never look back and soon the dead are forgotten in the depths of time,
Their spirits are lifted with a song and chime,
And they march onto the enemy, to the great rolling skies,
That squirms with the souls, with the innocent cries,
Their boots ploughing through the dust and bane,
Their bodies numb from the cold and the pain,
One drops to his knees, begging “water please”?
But there is none; as the bullets start flying and soldiers begin to freeze,
The soldier’s exhaustion meets their faces; they do not want to fight,
They are human, they are individual but they are alike,
They do not want the pain, or the sadness or death,
So they pray to god with one last breath,
And in return, like a miracle saviour,
The heaven’s open up and grant them their favour,
The drops fall in curtains and wrap around their faces,
And as they hit, the soldiers pause, stuck in their places,
Then a moment later, the music falls upon their ears,
Each song unique, vanquishing their fears,
Inside their heads, they laugh and cheer and scream,
As the music fills their hearts and the silky rain washes them clean,
Then the rain ceases and they celebrate not in vain,
For there are no more bullets, no enemies nor pain,
The battlefield is empty but every soldier could see,
The burdened souls in the sky, singing their silk rain symphony.