In an endless wilderness perpetually blanketed by snow, There is a little jewel nestled in a snug clearing. Its surface is smooth and unblemished, The top layer of ice seeming like melted diamonds.
This wilderness knows a cold like no other. When wolves try to reach the pond, They freeze and die amongst the trees. The hidden pond is protected, untouched, And no footprints soil the snow about it.
I live in this pond, underneath the canopy of Ice which turns the outside world milky and distorted. Some may say the ice traps me under, but I see it as A polar fortress. These temperatures freeze the emotion in my veins Before it can reach my heart.
Sometimes I float up to the surface from The murky floor on which I am comatose. I search for a ray of sunlight which would Coax me out of my frosty recess.
Tapping on the ice, like a pane of glass To protect from the injustice of the wilderness Outside, I am startled to see my own Glacial eyes staring back at me, The desperate hope reflected in them.
My solitary reflection reminds me That there is no one out there, And never will be. My heavy bones sink back to the bottom. As I sleep, the sun rises and sets, The snow piles up to sky-scraping heights, Wolves freeze in the piercing cold,
Again and again,
Miles away from even coming close To the hidden pond.
dearest darling Falling Leaf!!! no pain .. no gain ;} wow! i find your poem impressive for sure! .. but better burned than sinking under;)
your poem has rallied up my response so ... well done says i! .. it is too sad! .. and wolves are more remarkable than not says i! great write .. wishing you well for sure!
E.
Our ponds of appreciation appreciate even one fallen leave whose brilliance rests comfortably on the waters of our souls telling us stories about life that are dipped in streams of truth.
Great description create place and lonely thoughts. I like the description. Made the hidden pond come alive in vision. I liked how you used the pond to make your point. A strong closure to the excellent poetry.
Coyote
Really like the metaphor, it's little dark and definitely striking. I've seen more poems of you, and as always, your use of words impressed me. It fits, it flows, it works, every, time, again, and it never gets old. It's spotless, nothing could get me from reading this. Cheers.
The isolation of which you speak is seemingly self-imposed, with the frozen surface acting as a buffer between your emotions and the ramifications you may experience from revealing them to others. A big part of you wants to be more free with feelings, but the 'wolves' and other (unseen) forces stifle your attempts to open up. The imagery in this piece is spectacular, you really nailed it! My compliments. take care...dan
I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
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