There is point
to prick in brain of flower,
as jolt to cleave,
in bolt of feather
without a wing
like distant thunder coming home
forgetting when the noise
was needle,
across my Meadow's stash of grass
in higher smoke,
to find as secret left behind,
a new foreclosure
without the notice
of line to lease
in Land's forgiveness,
for I am younger than the mountains,
and I am brought
to kneel in grace
at seeing such forgotten smile
rise to kiss
another morning blush
inside my summer
and leave me breathless.
I am tired with desert bones
from searching soul
for warmer wish
in global cooling,
for passion hiding from itself
so no one sees
while they are counting,
those silent sheep that never come,
in language drifting
from the shadows,
waiting while the senses gather
in new directions of affirmation,
where tear is taunt
to heart in transit,
and not quite true to form
in meter minded wall,
but still the fingers wiggle free.
So let me look and find my angel
always in that place I left her,
when page is white from new beginning,
turning inward with the circle,
in dance of finding all
as should be.
Author notes
my cliche..."looking for a needle in a haystack"
A contest entry
- Give A Metaphor More Potency!!! by Quality Contests.
425 points, ended April 15, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Nicely done. Thanks for making this contest a success. Keep writing.
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ahhh, beautiful. bypasssing the cliche (which i suppose was the point, but i got stuck on something else lol) the last stanza hit me hard as clay backed under desert sun, leaving loss for words as what to say and who whispers ears of strong belief accepts and relishes the gift of 'finding all
as should be.'
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It is always such a pleasure to read your poetry! This poem flows like hair in gentle wind, dances and swirls with ease off the tongue...(sigh)... like distant thunder coming home
forgetting when the noise was needle,
across my Meadow's stash of grass ~ that erases all cliches, right there, another beautiful write!
-
So beautiful!
Rich, you have once again written with so much beauty and flawless feather....
"So let me look and find my angel
always in that place I left her,
when page is white in new beginning,
turning inward with the circle,
in dance of finding all
as should be."
Gorgeous piece....
Lynda
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A needle in a haystack has never looked as good as the one you describe here, just moving, timeless and flowing like cascading water. Love, C
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"when I was younger than the mountains,
as I am brought
to kneel in grace
at seeing such
inside my summer.
I am tired with desert bones
from searching soul"
Ahhh, dear Scribe...You're timeless, classic...still just a puppy, m'Dear...
This is a wonderful take on such a cliche'd phrase, my Friend...Lovely imagery, pure flow of musical language...& as always, a profound love & respect for all things natural...Good luck in the contest, Sweetie...
Wanda
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