Those bright pulses of light,
That shuffle past our young eyes,
Needing to be seen just to survive,
That use their magic in the best of ways,
Escaping fear, igniting day,
Owning the brilliance of irresistable color,
And smuthering our children with love,
In such beauty I see forver.
And eternity is not that bad.
It's like a hermit that sticks out it's head,
To make sure nothing is happening,
But the social flight of children tip it on it's side,
But the shells of the sea are stronger than they seem,
Eternity cannot be beat.
No.
Eternity cannot be beat.
So as humans we greet forver,
With a sweaty, trembling hand, and gulp down our inability to love unconditionally
And we swat at the pulses of light,
Still shuffling about our eyes
Because we want not to see forever
Hurry, turn into night!
Hurry, turn out the light!
A contest entry
- Collecting the light by Sonja.
950 points, ended September 22, 2007, 13 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - prewrite by Melissa Gayle.
500 points, ended October 10, 2007, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
This is an interesting piece - I will be honest, I am not sure how I feel about it.
I am torn, I would like to see it tightened a bit but at the same time I enjoyed the voice in the piece. -
Poem written as thoughts flows upon the poets minds, free as a bird with the touch of something almost invisible bitterness within lines but also written with a lot of love and hope. This form and expression is very familiar to me. Very, very nice poem with a lot of quality.
~Sonja~
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