"Watching The Falling Stars..."

Gazing into...

This started as a comment and grew into its own.

“Watching The Falling Stars…”

 

I picture you standing on a rooftop,

arms on the wall edges and leaning...

looking out over the neighborhood and

evesdreaming

of places,

and being the person

walking the views behind your eyes. 

And age isn't in play -

we are all ageless when we do that -

stand looking into our abyss.

 

I used to stand on castle battlements

gazing

to seas

to countrysides. 

Seeing places -

to go,

to wander,

to wonder,

to dream the dreams of love and adventure,

to feel my heart smile,

  and afterwards

to feel the tears roll down

'til they fell away -

when you KNOW

they were and ARE just dreams.

 

People. 

We want so much,

so little,

so often,

so seldom…

and we laugh and cry,

live to die. 

Describe the FEEL of the hand -

the one you SO want to hold -

not a person but

the FEEL of THAT hand within yours

and then how YOU feel as you hold it… 

If you KNOW how -

you can sense others,

hear heartbeats,

feel them,

ever so softly touch and hold them. 

And miss them,

even ones that were never near -

strange how THAT works,

but reality is

where the emotional intensity is greatest,

was greatest,

was borne and experienced,

was lived and became …ours. 

Real IS what we believe,

perceive,

and yet each of us believe and perceive

in our own ways and time. 

Our mirrors lie -

we don’t age til we say we have

and even then, well…

 

Beauty is the FEEL of THAT hand -

in yours. 

And the sheer moment

of that feel

is the hope and heart

we each see with

behind our eyes

as we gaze into life’s distance

as it nears our own reality.

 

Chris

Author's Note

Feel free

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Beauty is the FEEL of THAT hand -
in yours.
And the sheer moment
of that feel
is the hope and heart
we each see with
behind our eyes
as we gaze into life’s distance
as it nears our own reality.

Been wondering how you are, long time friend. This poem has always said so much to me, as am sure it has to so many.

[Chris]

I'm still here - watching the hours pass - listening to the rain inside. Though I post less, I find the mind thinking and reacting more. You be safe over there.

[emmajoygreen]

Surely we are all safe somewhere, Chris - but, inevitably as we disappear into our dreams, dear sir.

[Chris]

Quietly nods... laters

[Vol]

D. H. Lawrence is my favorite of all the Modern poets because, as a group, they saw the destruction of all the foundations of western culture, and each one attempted to find a way through the fragmentation of our zeitgeist. Lawrence's answer was meaning comes from the senses, and sensuality offers a map to the best life.

[Reinrose]

I picture you standing on your porch, looking up and out at the stars. Feeling, not feeling the hand across the oceans. A touch, never to be.

[emmajoygreen]

Each every word strikes a chord, Chris. From start to finish there is true emotion, belief, need. Each phrase is simply put but then - that's the way to say what comes from a sincere heart.
How touching and beautiful is this: ' Beauty is the FEEL of THAT hand - in yours. - And the sheer moment - of that feel - is the hope and heart - we each see with - behind our eyes - as we gaze into life’s distance - as it nears our own reality.'

Even though unwell, your words speak for the man and poet you are.