I Ebb
I touch, and I dance; spectacular flight,
Only I'm... feather-light,
And sunshine-bright, forever.
I'm all creeping towards centripetal sources;
I'm fearing the forces, and craving the courses
On which I'm compelled to travel.
Yet slowly and sanely, I'm waxing and waning;
Up and down ladders of angels, I'm ebbing,
And grappling for webbing with fight.
It's just that that webbing endorses my plight.
A contest entry
- Ebb by Mirthryl.
1050 points, ended April 21, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Merci De Lire
Comments
-
Nice rhyme and internal rhyme. Makes me think of the spirit ebbing from mortality, moving toward "centripetal sources," with a degree of trepidation (fearing, craving, compelled). Interesting idea of "waxing and waning up and down the ladders of angels", with a feeling of overall moving toward waning. I'm not sure what the "webbing" refers to, unless perhaps the safety net under circus performers? Or a spider web, sticky and captivating, which would "endorse my plight"? Or is this a butterfly's tale, grappling for space in a migratory roost? Interesting multiple interpretations!
Thank you for your thoughts, and for entering my contest!
Adding your comment:
