This moment comes too fast for me,
as I have yet to find my treasure,
and not because I didn't look,
my Meadow's path is worn
enough to tell in story
how I have called your quill to answer,
my search for secret.
And here you are,
watching such pathetic demise
above my silent stoic stretching,
still not to see,
my blue eyes singing
Morning's blush in hand to touch
and so begin a magic revolution.
I must have given up my soul
in seed
to spawn your disapproval
in ghost of engine
turning circle
on some dirt road,
your elusive, red clouds of earth
stirred by wheel
to rise in vapor,
around my desert place
within your whispered tear,
petrified
to stop for artifact,
and bless a journey
so insignificant.
So I collected painted rock
instead of time to laugh with people,
and one by one,
they grew so heavy
to haunt my room in frigid fossil,
cold, stone figures
of trees
without leaves
where long ago
a young man stood,
his greener fields to sway his pleasure,
dancing stars
and stepping softly,
dreaming love,
inviting perfection,
in wind and fire,
as innocence smiled
his night to slumber
thinking life was just so simple.
A contest entry
- Death Bed Confessions by queenie.
1800 points, ended February 13, 2007, 15 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
i must have read this at least three times and each times shows me something different.very good.
-
"inviting perfection, in wind and fire, as innocence smiled his night to slumber thinking life was just so simple." Sighhh...Powerfully pensive & passionately pure, my dear Friend...When death comes to me, I shall not whisper...I shall yell at him to go 'way from me, I'm not ready yet...I am in no hurry to leave this existence; life is far too brief as it is...If you asked someone that's 100 years old, they'll tell you it was gone in the blink of an eye, the breadth of a whisper...Stick around awhile, Sweet Scribe of the Mountains...It'll get more interestin' as time moves on...
Good luck in the contest, Sweetie...& by the way, you're still just a puppy...
Wanda
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This is deep; the voice here so very authentic and looking at what the contest requirements are, then it adds even more emphasis and impact to this poem. I think most of us, even when old and grey, will feel that death comes too soon, yet we know from an early age that it will and must come. I could very much relate to the young man and the innocence, thinking that life is so simple...perhaps we're all still young deep inside - so many things still to do. Very thought-provoking poem with an element of darkness about it...a kind of a nostalgia about those days and nights when innocence guided our path. But I have to agree with Lynda's comment - the spirit is always alive and young - and yes innocent too.
~ Nicolette
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beautiful
That young man is still standing there, my friend, and he lives in your heart and spirit...
We go through changes and rough times, but that young free spirit is still alive and well..
Beautiful poetry..
Lynda
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