Soul Search

Yearning deep grabs my soul tendrils
      and pulls in close so I can not only hear,
     but listen, and well understand.

I am pushed to the brink of here and Nothingness
   I exist and nothing else is real.

The world is an oil painting created by my soul tendrils
     so that this universe might be understood.

               "Look!  See what I have made!
               Beauty exists in darkness.
               You are alive and so am I!"

It speaks in velvet tones and moves me to lie in green fields
     warming myself in the golden sunlight and basking in my knowledge.

I hear the wind waves and I am them, they are me.

Reviews

[Collette]

Reading through this poem, I am reminded of Keats. The tragedy that is mortality, and the beauty that is art. Specifically, your word draws strong ties to his "ode to a nightingale"...somber, dark, and beautiful in itself.
These lines were vivid in my mind:
It speaks in velvet tones and moves me to lie in green fields
warming myself in the golden sunlight and basking in my knowledge.
You words provide a sublime view of life. Thanks for sharing.

[Emily B]

You are them. They are you. This is awesomeness. Really. Wonderful stuff.