Falling-sudden dusk has sent Man out
to reach for what they have not touched,
to touch what has alluded them
but, they have put their hand to brush
and made modest miracles happen
in things the rest of us
have merely dreamed.
Ah, Scribe, your starry mind, stroking linen
with lines that catch my breath
at recognition of a brilliant mind
that frightens me with beauty
that has bent, such as you, to trace
my skin of knowing and loving
so deeply that I turned inside out
for words that left lips before they blued
with a frozen wintry “Goodbye.”
I suffered such insanity,
reaching for a lover’s truth
that flew out into celestial pallets
of layered loneliness
and I clutched nothing but dead air
in hands that tried to hold him.
I have only books I placed on topmost shelf
where I must climb to read
and one day, time will weaken knee
and offset balance so I can no longer
lean out over a sliding step
to clutch you to my breast
on those starless nights
when I need faith
that they and you were ever here.
Bless the reaching and the reached for;
they are love lingering on petal of a poem
flying in fall’s fierce leavings. It has given
us reason to take something solid, as pen
and brush, to sketch in the missing.
Author notes
This was written for those who know the reach. Best read while listening to
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ospavn-XeA4
dedicated to tireseus http://allpoetry.com/tireseus
In a list
A contest entry
- REACH IN...REACH OUT! by LadyLavender.
575 points, ended September 3, 2007, 8 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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I have to keep reading this poem
I do not fully understand it
but I am swelled with it
I hate to keep hearing the
words to the song you quote
about Vincent Van Gogh that
Don Mc Lean wrote and sang.
For some reason I have never
listened to Josh Groban?
Should I? I am almost exclusively
classical but for the wild moments
when I need hard rock or good jazz
or good blues or good international.
You truly flatter me by dedicating
this poem to me. You are by far
the superior poet to me. You are
the first person I have ever met who
can kick out a silly rhyming poem,
like I can, in a few moments - and
make the damn thing seem to make
some sense. Here is what you have
that I so admire: The power of sound
in your words. You know how to make
the words sing and come alive with
the image or idea you are trying to
convey. Very rare quality. Here is
what it means: You have the subtle
layers within your soul to be able
to manipulate language to it's full
power. These layers have to be the
layers of experience that you can
draw on when you need to kick ass
and take names..................... -
Congratulations
Beautifully golden. I enjoyed this a great deal.
~Pamela 
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ty pamela. REaching in and reaching out...it is a reactive and reflective gesture for us who wish to get things sorted. ty so much for the gold.
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"Bless the reaching and the reached for;
they are love lingering on petal of a poem
flying in fall’s fierce leavings. It has given
us reason to take something solid, as pen
and brush, to sketch in the missing."
Sighhh...My God, what a beautiful penning this is, my Sister. Your quill was blessed when you picked it up to write these words. What a wondrous tribute. Good luck in the contest, Sweetie. 
Wanda
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You can tell when it truly hits a chord, gf, that's why I lubs yah!
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Before humankind had the plane (s)he reach for the sky but has yet attained flight...
before poets had words to explain the mystery (s)he reached for ways to express the ache of the heart.
This is just beautiful penning dear,
Ovations!
Marianne
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ty, providence. I appreciate your kind words and thoughts.
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You words always have a way of getting into the heart of a poet and grasping their fullest attention. Even without the song, your words alone were melodious to my soul. Exquisitely done! Good luck in the contest.
♥ Touchof1der -
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Ty, my friend, sometimes things string together....the jpg, the song and thelonging all fit together in a tight little knot for me.
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This has touched me at the deepest level...
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and so...that is peotry, friend... if it was static, then it coudl not be called a good poem. I appreciate that it touched you..for it comes from the depths of my soul, this one.
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A most stunning write Carol . . . I can feel the tremble of your voice in this one, the ache that drives the pen to the paper . . . as an aside, I saw a couple of Van Gogh's paintings at the Vancouver Art Gallery the other day and was astounded at how they leaped right off the wall and into my eyes . . . such a raw and unbridled energy each of them contained . . . the pain of artistic expression still personified all these years later . . . I was amazed!!!!
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Yes, I had the incredible exprience of going to the Art Museum in Amsterdam... I remember being in such awe that I was near where the hand had touched and expressed such.
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This is your best writing:
Writing of the self to reveal.
Looking for the words to heal.
Bleeding heart never congealed.
Poetry of the broken deal.
Love will never let one steal.
Unshaken confidences - real.
Secret chambers, sacred seals.
Inside your mind angels kneel.
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ty pen friend. I need to check this morning to see your new work.
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