Such a small and infinite space,
womb,
erasing comfort of the cage
in tender skin that screams of dream,
beginning the end
with learned steps to wander nowhere;
now here,
meadow, come to clear,
mindful spirit of elk, still searching.
I write where ego kneels in elegant unimportance,
stride tearing hide in heavy branch,
low bending;
season raising eyes to wind-blown mountain,
ever searing colder, burning bush,
glowing winter sting,
as crystal harmonics, ringing true,
through inner slopes of new-born window.
I can only cry for more,
when sight is brighter, slivered constellation,
soul net soaring through glimmered universe,
come back to rest,
earth in chasm-captured word,
that which moves my heart-trod journey.
In a list
A contest entry
- To Live ~ Or To REALLY Live by CarolDesjarlais.
900 points, ended January 3, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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"I write where ego kneels in elegant unimportance,
" oh that punched, that really hit a homer.... what a lvoe soulful description roils within the lines. -
What can possibly be said about your writing that has not already been said...or, at least, been attempted? How does one describe the sound of wind in the trees, the scent of pine, the feeling of freedom? Yet, somehow, you always manage to do just that, my Friend...& always, in such a different, unique & marvelous manner...As Nic stated, your voice IS that of Nature's, dear Scribe...Good luck in Carol's contest, Sweetie. 
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This is the struggle of the human heart to find the pulse beyond the "earth in chasm-captured word," and I don't know how you find the way to manifest it so beautifully in expression, what seems to have been a maze for me my entire life. I read this, feeling the depth of vision, and the desire that is the most basic prayer to be at one with life, love.
It holds us...but never unmoved in the stillness. Your thought comes so purely to share. Stunningly, tender wordpaint evolving the journey from sense to soul..... 
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this made me emotional ...It is so... "you"
especially:
"I write where ego kneels in elegant unimportance,"
Such a humble angel you are my dear friend...I love this...
Happy New year & ty for the many feathers
Lynda
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I agree...your poetic voice is so authentic, so unique...just like the voice of nature...
~ Nicolette
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so rich, so full with mind games and eye games and word games and realities and beauty which few poets reach when trying to express life in its myriad of manifestations, yet so uniquely define path from one end to the other end, and nothing beyond and everything between. you have such a unique, special voice, my poetic friend...
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