Prelude to a Pine Cone's Epitaph

A reflection on the cycles of life...

Disposed upon the frosty detritus
a dry husk of reproductive potential spent 
lost within the litterfall,
each open scale a testament 
a prickly, sap tinged reminder 
my decomposition will nurture the future.

I feel much the same today 
as when I was firmly fixed to purpose,
swaying in the waving fronds of family and friends 
sweet scented, I endured with supple flexibility 
spending the seeds of my talent 
a gifted wealth, unreserved.

I am now empty… 

tossed to a deathbed of chromatic revelation 
unmasked brilliance decorates my bedchamber 
humbled, I wait to be collected

or slowly rot... 

useful still, if for nothing more than decoration, 

a centerpiece dressing the table of thanksgiving. 

Reviews

[barleygirl]

What an excellent comparison of a pine cone to the cycles of life. Love the way this line is crafted with internal rhyme: "my decomposition will nurture the future" . . . Love 2nd stanza's description of life in its prime, as well as 3rd stanza's life in its waning stages. I'm not relating as strongly to the last stanza, tho it's well-written.

[David Scott]

Thank you very much for your thoughts. I agree with you as I read this now. The last stanza is not very strong at all. The poem would stand better simply deleting it I think. Great observation!

[...]

A pinecone is the cycle of life. Both the end and the beginning of its self...eternal growth :) Your words are so deeply rooted in the wisdom of your heart and the defiance of your spirit. You are so much more than a decorative center piece, my friend, your heart is the seed of life and understanding, of enduring and releasing...the voice of the infinite. Amazing!

[David Scott]

Thank you Lynn. You are more than generous with your review of my poetry. Thank you also for seeing the best of me within the work as well. You are a kind friend.

[Coyote Poetry]

I liked the honest thoughts in the poetry.
"I am now empty…
tossed to a deathbed of chromatic revelation,
unmasked brilliance decorates my bedchamber,
humbled, I wait to be collected... Or slowly rot,
useful still, if for nothing more than decoration,
a centerpiece dressing the table of thanksgiving."
The holidays make us wander to old days. Good and bad. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[David Scott]

Thank you once again friend. Life and it's transition beyond this mortal flesh are realities we must face...

[Coyote Poetry]

Was my pleasure and you are welcome.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Sweet mercy! This is profound in the purest sense, your words embalming the greatest truths. I really admire the wisdom of age, the reflection it provides, and the ability to face our mortality head on. Your words choices are beyond brilliant! I just finished, "A Branch In Winter." It's oddly coincidental that my mind was wandering along the same lines. Nonetheless, my mind wonders just the same.

[David Scott]

You are too kind. Thank you. I will be sure to read your poem. I often find similar inspirations are gifted to many writers. It is the unity of Spirit and Nature we all can share.

[Lily Mae]

Thank you for taking me along with you on this journey... Your words and phrases are so perfectly related that it pulls the reader in.. I love your work as always....xo

[David Scott]

As always, you write a gift into every line. Thank you for the review Lily. 😀

[An owl on the moon]

A rich, deeply glimpsed image of life, of moving into darkness, a place of death and release. There is such profound voices flowing in this framework, this shell of the world we walk in. You make us ponder our existence in the wonder of it all.

[David Scott]

Even when we attempt vivid clarity, we only ever scratch an outline of shared realities...
Thank you for taking the time to read and review Craig.

[Pryde Foltz]

Some amazing wordsmithing, David. Wonderful work.

[David Scott]

Thank you Pryde. I know you are very busy and I appreciate the fact you took time to read my work.

[Pryde Foltz]

It was my pleasure:)

[Vishuddha]

No need for eyes, hobby horse or otherwise. Your words portray your spirit's defiance. But, is it empty in the end or passed into a way wherein the physical has been replaced by learning deeper even than catty playfulness and careless boots?

[David Scott]

Thank you for reading and echoing back my words... Life, passing beyond into immortality where death has no sting. Still, I enjoy the days of sowing seeds.

[Chris]

mortality...such a restless pattern to an existence and a state few accept without fear and pause.

[David Scott]

Thank you for reading... no fear, but worthy of a pause from time to time for perspective.

[Chris]

Each of us seems to take our own view... of endings and the price of being.

[Terpsichore]

Mother nature knows best. She rests when she must, births news life eternal, celebrates the life giving warmth of the sun, gifts this beautiful planet with colours we can only dream of emulating.

That line, 'my decomposition will nurture the future,' is brilliant. Memories, like the buds of spring, never die.

A grand poem. T

[David Scott]

Thank you for reading and for leaving your kind thoughts as a blessed footprint in my day.