I went, upon an evening clear,
to where the misty mountains rise.
To where the birds unfettered fly,
to search the endless, trackless skies.
And saw the shadows, far below,
of mighty figures on the ground
as drifted they from peak to crag
in search of something never found.
So real. So real! And yet no more
than vagrant vapors in my mind.
Great painted shapes of shadow clouds
but never artist could I find.
Mere silhouettes upon the earth.
No more, no less; they shall not last.
But cloud-drawn shadows, brushed by time,
the changing picture of the past.
Now night approaches, bitter cold,
to cover all with winter's rime
and time, the blowing of the wind,
consumes the shadows made by time.
The wistful shadows sadly go
as darkness ends the endless day
and shadow makers, such as we,
are only clouds and cannot stay.
And yet the night retreats at last.
The sun will shine, the wind must blow.
The shadows change but do not fade.
The artist...smiles...and does not go.
The world is thus of shadows made
and each a diff'rent world must see.
Ask not, my friend, who made it so.
Thy world, I vow, was made by thee.
A contest entry
- Give me something so spirtual so that the hair on my arms and neck stands up by SueMason.
600 points, ended January 23, 2008, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - The Great Experience by RhiannonClare.
450 points, ended February 7, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - 13th Contest by Spiritualangel..PW Poems allowed... Picture Prompt... by spiritualangel.
470 points, ended February 8, 2008, 10 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - THE PHILOSOPHY AND SPIRITUALITY OF INDIA by maa.
777 points, ended April 16, 2008, 10 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - The Wanderer by Aedara-Wren.
900 points, ended November 19, 6 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 20 of 20
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Have some applause for the excellent poem.
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I would have loved to have given this a higher prize but since it was a pre-write which means that technically I don't think it was written specifically from the prompt. I feel it would be unfair to give you a higher trophy when others wrote specifically from the prompt.
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well, add me to the list of admires of this poem... the whole idea of getting older, life slowly slipping away is universal. But for me the pleasure of this poem is the handling of the structure, the wording the rhyme.
The story unfolds slowly as often death does... it drifts, unwinds like an old clock that's lost its "spring." A mournful poem... there's no hope but there is a definite acceptance of a life that has been full... and now must end. Great work all around.
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Amazing, I really enjoyed this poem and the whole idea behind it. It reminds me slightly of Plato's idea of the people in the cave watching the shadows on the wall, they are still always shadows of the real thing. I agree with the idea that life is shadows, you can never know everything about it and it always changes, your view of the world really means that you shape your own world and it'll never be the same as any one elses. This poem just flows so well and has such depth and imagery I was really really impressed with it. Well done.
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I like the image of the wanderer as an eagle or a bird of prey on the wing, watching their shadow go before them on the landscape below. An evocative piece that takes me in many directions.
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This is so beautiful! One part that sticks in my mind: "and shadow-makers, such as we,/are only clouds, and cannot stay."
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this is a unique piece, you speak like a person who has searched, or still are, with whom the search is sincere. the understanding in this piece is like one who is seeing the world from a deeper perspective of a world which we hardly know of and can merely grasp, a world full continuity of change and impemanance, however there is the artist.. the unchanging, from were we the paintings come from and disappear to.
your use of the shadowy context deserves applause, like we see everything in a shadowy sense as in, incomplete not knowing to what extent the completeness reaches
'So real. So real! And yet no more
than vagrant vapors in my mind.
Great painted shapes of shadow clouds
but never artist could I find.'
its difficult not to call 'real' what you see everyday, we are convinced that this is all there is, someone can tell me that its not but, i guess i will have to be up those mountains looking down, seeing the whole picture before it hits in my mind. i love your entry, but mostly your sincerity.
bless.
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I am delighted to find such a graceful response to the prompt in the form of your verse ... it carries an universal message, and rather than mentally elaborating on concepts attached to a religious or philosophical current, your verse is free from this burden ...
it transcends any kind of dogma, and guides the reader right into the core of the core ...
in this way, readers of any religion or none, may connect with your words and feel concerned ...
since there are no religious connotations present in your poem, it is non-exclusive and transcends boundaries ...
a poem that speaks about the essence - right from the essence ...
thank you,
maa
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Mere silhouettes upon the earth.
No more, no less; they shall not last.
But cloud-drawn shadows, brushed by time,
the changing picture of the past.
Now night approaches, bitter cold,
to cover all with winter's rime
and time, the blowing of the wind,
consumes the shadows made by time.
Beautiful. Best of luck. -
thanks for your entry, i really liked this
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this is very nice
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an extremely well done piece of poetry. Just plain excellent....
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Oh! I loved reading every line of this and am suddenly feeling misty!
"The wistful shadows sadly go
as darkness ends the endless day
and shadow makers, such as we,
are only clouds and cannot stay."
Such a poignant verse pulls me back to read such beautifully penned words again. Accolades...and bookmarked. ~ Karen
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This is a very intyeresting and effective poem, with powerful imagry. It is refreshing to come across such an accomplished command of language!
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beautiful
simply breathtaking!
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nice thoughts
Appreciated your writing, maybe you were saying we make our own reality, or what we take to life is what we get. i agree. thanks for entering: DAve -
Oh god - this was worthy of a publisher. Really stunning. But I heard that a publisher would sooner see a burglar in his office than a poet. But, poet you are sweetheart. xx chills xx
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Astounding...so much depth and inner wisdom comes through this beautifully written metaphor! This relation of cloud,shadow,night,day, and the ones who make it so really speaks to me on a deeper level.
This writing has made you one of my fav's.
Thank-you for penning these thoughts and sharing!
Blue
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This is a well written piece. Full of amazing imagery and great rhythm and flow.
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This is very good. I have a sneaking feeling. Apart from the repetition of 'time' in the 5th stanza - which i found awkward - this is beautifully put together. Unfortunately, I have no real critique to give you, only praise. This strikes me as the work of a true poet.
Well Done,
K. F.
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