Let them wear black in the morning
when sun brightens darkness in sudden birth
and takes the velvet robe from
the woman of night, passing
as she stands there in rising and falling air
heat of passions in faded night
beneath cool air of restless dawn
barest pose of ebony skin… sweetest night
and I know the ardor deep within
a sacred core, a silence filled with blessings.
They would wear red in the fading of day
when celebration finds its cause
as life nears a lingering pause to become memory
We do not know, but might make evil or
create heaven on the last moment
and stay forever within a welt of time.
An empty sea filled of possibility
currents run to the mind of the Maker
as if an inhale of her reason,
and vanish as spent wishes
then they will wear white, soft as new snow;
simply accept our gifts, and choose…
as light and carried brilliance of the stars
flown into a drift without time where
yet something of us, a mirror we will believe to be
will continue, frozen to the passing eye
uniquely formed in crystal ice, held strong in blessed water
and each peculiar history
becomes a prayer of peace
a thought of love in a song of dreams
to float upon a lasting tide, bound in found silence.
In a list
A contest entry
- with a rush by Melissa Gayle.
900 points, ended October 28, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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I love a few phrases in this write, particularly "welt of time", but I'm just not getting this one. Sorry Pete, maybe I'm just not in the right frame of mind. I don't know who "they" are, but I like the first stanza the best, I just can't follow what it's setting up, then it switched to "we". A little too abstract for my head right now.
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well done
Flows well. Good rhythm. Strong imagery. This is a poem of great depth. It gets better with each reading.
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very nicely penned. gl in the contest.
blu
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You play with word, emotion and color beautifully.
I have enjoyed this. You are a wonderful poet. -
i like the colors, reminds me of a day, reflected on the tide...as to a life is in one day, how the tide is like life and reflects on us..
"and each peculiar history
becomes a prayer of peace
a thought of love in a song of dreams
to float upon a lasting tide, bound in found silence."
beautiful...
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The intriguing weave of color throughout, wraps around the cycle of a day or the cycle of a life, the closing lines somewhat of a tribute to one's life and reflecting what we have contributed that makes our being worth while...our gifts. Our essence captured like an image in a mirror and then frozen..so much to love in this poem. I love the reference to the mystery of our end, heaven or hell caught within a welt of time. Beautifully expressed!
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