Footprints and shadows
proof that time has flowed on.
Dented sands and sunlight,
and I have changed the past;
for was there I stood
when chance found me wanting
and forgiveness was not in my thoughts,
casting flames of blame
chunks of callous hard ground
filled my wishes.
Yet I knew the will to fly,
to spread wings to sky and soar
and lifted my eyes away from clay
hardened earth, to faraway lights.
I realized that even as
hands had filled and arms
led the way to short sighted aims
my eyes took in the beauty
of the nape of night, how graceful
she adored land and water, and clouds
that took on colors and silvered hues
of my most delicate desires.
Author notes
Not for Judging...just for the joy of it...
A contest entry
- Fat Albert is a genius by Mallig.
1000 points, ended July 5, 5 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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"Not for Judging", eh? Ok, I will not judge this but it sure is beautiful. This really made me think about all the beautiful opportunities we can miss while engaged in "mud-slinging", and also how forgiveness can sometimes "cleanse" memory. Thanks for entering!
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Thank you Mallie-
for your kind words and comments -- better than a trophy any day!...PK
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From clay to clouds, a big and very good change.
I liked the idea of changing the past by changing the way we think.
Very good poem!
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Deep with emotion...
It took me on a journey in its spiritual meaning...
Salute! -
First off, I have to say that I think the description of footprints and shadows being "dented" sand and sunlight is GENIUS. That one word adds such dimension to the idea. I also like the wordplay of CAST in the title, for both the footprint and the shadow are cast, but in different ways. In either case, a CHANGE has been cast into the softness, rather than the BLAME that had been cast in conjunction with the callousness. Here too, the title comes back into play, at least to my reading. The CLAY of the image becomes the clay of the man's heart, no longer hardened, but touched, impressionable.
I also like the lesson in the last couple of sections. It speaks to me of a journey, and that each of us learns along the way--and often even rebellion can eventually become a teacher. His arms were full (of himself, greed?), his eyes were short sighted and temporal, and yet he learned. Even here in this state, grace was not hidden from him, he saw beauty-- realized there was something more. It was all a part of his journey. Had he not filled himself and aimed for selfish goals, his change might not have been as significant and wonderful. I always read too much into story and images, you know that. But this is what your poem speaks to me. It is just lovely.
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The words flow dramatically
down the page, but lift
the reader from the hardened clay,
from the footprints of the past
to your elegant description
of the beauty seen
in the flight of the night.
Superb!
Aesthete
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I like the "nape of night" and the whole feeling of this poem.
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thank you Zayra ... PK
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