Dry leaves do not crunch beneath a ghost

Inspired somewhat by "René" by Chateaubriand.

The dry leaves no longer crunch

beneath his heavy tread,

yet he walks along the path once more.

 

How inspired the heart of a youth,

weaving words from falling leaves,

twisting branches into poems,

turning raindrops into rhymes.

 

Alone he was, with his own mind,

at peace among the trees.

Lovelorn and lonely he was.

Yet with solitude came art.

 

A brilliant mind,

a poetic heart,

a boy no one understood.

But he did not look for company

in any but himself.

 

And now he walks weightless,

Along the very path

where genius turned the birdsongs into ballads,

leaves fluttering through

a heart filled with sorrow and regret.

 

Dry leaves do not crunch beneath a ghost.

Max Levites - 10/1/11

Author's Note

I apologize for not having been around for a while. But sudden inspiration hit, and I went with it ;)

Reviews

[Enigma]

As soon as I noticed your name, I straightaway clicked on this work, knowing well that I haven't read anything by you since a long time. And well, the wait seems worth it.

The poem was captivating and using the single image of the dry leaves, it has captured the thoughts of the guy who finds his chosen company in his solitude. For the most part, I can relate to the sentiment of the poem when the strongest bouts of inspiration come when I feel laden with worries of a lifetime. SO many times, the best 'art' springs from the worst of emotions (like sorrow and pain, but not always). The imagery is stunning and the flow is smooth. Well written. And welcome back! :D

[Everson Taveras]

Your imagery here is contagious; it delves the reader ever so deeply into the woods where trees bleed colorfully in serenity found often in solace. Thank you for sharing.