Out of her darkness
she flows in a river
of copper and gold
made liquid by
the flame of her eyes.
Parting the light
inside out
sun casting shadows
of her soul
she looks through the world
to discover that only night
can follow day.
A flower, she opens
to know the heart
of the passing hour,
surrendering perfection,
while sunlight all
around her
silently descends.
Her hour passed,
dreaming wings she
slips free the pull
of Earth to rise
above the blue,
there to touch
the face of God.
In a list
A contest entry
- Points giveaway... by kiwigirljacks.
1800 points, ended October 14, 2008, 17 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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first off - congrats on your gold!
I'm not surprised. This is lovely writing
and so beautifully depicted.
I'm
having a lot of fun reading your work.
Love, Lane
-
GARRISON!
WOW!
where have you been hiding this side of your writing>
HOLY SMOKES!
And I see my lovely sister gave you gold for it, she has such good taste. You have penned something I could read again and again and again.
Love,
jin
-
Oh wow!!!
This is just gorgeous my dear!!! You have such a way with words, and this piece truly shines to prove that fact!
"Out of her darkness
she flows in a river
of copper and gold
made liquid by
the flame of her eyes."
.. that opening is spectacular!!! I especially love the last line there ..
"surrendering perfection,
while sunlight all
around her
silently descends."
.. this too, just flows so beautifully for the core of the poem ..
The expression here is hopeful and truly poignant, a sort of glimpse from another's eye. Lovely write!!!
-
Beautiful imagery, especially in the opening verse. Glides with much ease, superb read. Good luck
-
I love the brightness, the sunlight that shines from this poem. Wonderfully spiritual and uplifting piece. Somehow it made me think of sunflowers following the path of the sun. Lovely poetry!!
~ Nicolette
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This is really stunning! Hauntingly spiritual in it's surrender and just very captivating indeed!
-
The unfolding of serenity into divinity. Sacrifice and acceptance of a solitary being. What you capture in an hour or 26 lines, intense.. softly watched, you caress the visions in simple form.
Her hour passed,
dreaming wings she
slips free the pull
of Earth to rise
above the blue,
there to touch
the face of God.
..
“Still, wherever you are, nothing, not even the sun, shines so bright and there is perfection about you. By your word worlds collide and the stars spin backward in the sky.”
-I must say- that sounds more like you, though you are whole and your words are a beacon.. I can’t place you.. your views might seem celestial in soulful melody..
-yet then there is that warm tender closeness.. Those stark angular depths through the scaffolds of darkness. Bleak below fire. And you merge with all elements, worlds -complete, and unlike men, never fixed to one earth. With one mind, you see above life, beyond death and only the spirits. So vividly you sing to them, you watch them dance, like you know their bones, their motions. With that tone, speaking of spherical visions, unknown to most.
And the endings blaze, seep forward.
There are spirits in this.
-
Wondrous words distilled through awareness ...
of spirituality and of process in ascending grace ...
I loved the personification in this poem; also the full round sounds enhanced by assonance, softly embraced by alliteration ...
A rare orchid, beautiful bloom of solitude, of dark, at last freed
to rise
above the blue,
there to touch
the face of God.
Yes. In Her Hour ...
Simply stunning.
Love
Myra
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