Listen to a morning dove
singing on the rise of a mountain
where trees surrender to cold dry rock
and clouds meander beneath the feet;
and feel the silence before the call
the memory after the last note
and the vibrant pause in between,
a chalice of air receives a piece of life;
and so my page becomes a chalice
and I must learn
to pour the fill
as a song that only I may sing
before last notes fold into memory.
Author notes
Prompt- "Poetry is..."
In a list
A contest entry
- Poetry Is... by Everwind Rising.
1800 points, ended December 22, 2007, 24 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Great stuff! I love the peaceful nature of your description, and am particular found of the pauses you illuminate in the second stanza. This one is a wonderful call to record air that fills us. Good luck in the contest.
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Lovely. Great imagery.
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I like this and how it gives and image of poetry. Much luck to you
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Beautifully written hun
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Stunnign poetry
"and feel the silence before the call
the memory after the last note
and the vibrant pause in between,"
I amone who notices...although it has been said of me that I FEEL to much...it has kept me conscious. Beautifully done!
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Yes, this is what poetry is... to sing the song before it fades from the throat's memory. One of my favourite quotes in life is this one "we don't regret the things we've done; rather the songs that stayed unsung". This is a beautiful poem - the song of a poet poured onto a page ... where it continues to breathe and sing..
~ Nicolette
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