Much is cast off in honeyed candor
which would not be retrieved.
The myopia, the stubbornness, the anchor
was jettisoned and forsaken,
when we, adrift a millpond surface,
observed the strange ascension of insight:
“severance is illusory.”
It whelmed aloft
in slow, deliberate chords around us
before bleeding into everything.
A cordial veil swathed itself,
gowned us bodiless, the both of us,
in the swollen air
of sympathy.
And there were we, the annular pearl of affection,
barely there atop the sodden Liana.
Heeding: Love is fruition,
is nimble wind beheld.
Its numinous gazing
fitted about us like a halo.
Author notes
The strangest and most glorious night.
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:)
contrastingly different and very poignant., Granted I must have read it several times to understand it, it's well-written and it's made to make you think obviously. Honestly I'm not a big fan of unknown words such as "myopia" and "fruition" but I suppose if it makes sense to the author maybe on some level it makes sense to the readers of the same understanding... However, it's a nice poem. Well done.
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Excellent!
You really have talent,
thanks so much for sharing it here.
Peace,
and I wish you all the best in your future writes.
Missed ya Jen.
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By the sound of this poem it really must have been a strange and glorious night.Your poem is quite pretty.I like the words that you used to say what you wantd the reader to know.I would not change a thing but I might would try to find a differant backround maybe.Grat job on writing this though/
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And that most glorious night lead to a most beautiful poem too. The halo of love definately shines and glows here! Lovely rich images and languages too.
~ Nicolette
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Exquisite. Stunning. Beyond Beautiful, Jen.
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