Hills of Home

Bells of the town clock tower took too much from you and me Yet off to the rock and river they give of life for eternity

Wind ran by to kiss your cheek

round your neck our gilded hopes hung

The hand of God flowed soft within

from when he was happy and young

______________________________

Forget the nights of wanton desire

give to me not love nor tears

Evenings filled with endless dreams

bring me safe from all life's fears

______________________________

Your beauty is so great to bear

my chest hardly held its ache

For beauty more than bitter tears

will make the soft heart break

______________________________

Bells of the town clock tower

took too much from you and me

Yet off to the rock and river

they gave of life for eternity

______________________________

How often did we pass each other

o'er the long years as others do

Ne'er  once daring to ride the fire

to heavens door we never knew

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Author's Note

This is my first attempt at something a bit abstract. So please bear with me as I learn.
In our great attempt at manifest destiny we have left so many families broken apart, estranged, lost to the winds of time. Even now we let our cities die as we build ever outward to the horizons. We are in such a hurry to make our mark on this world we forget the most important thing, home. Is any man strong enough that he never need to lean on the foundation that bore him to adulthood? As in the times of the ancient mariner we all hear the call of sirens that gesture us to sail home. Continuity of purpose flows from the wellspring of our lives. In the end we all find we are drawn inexorably home, to the hearth from around which we told our tales of long ago and spun our yarns of a life well lived. The well spent life will always beckon from the winds of change a call for home.

Reviews

[roarke]

home is many things. The hearth, heart.... it's an age old concept, not always evident in modern times. But visible or not, it's the same, "never risking once to ask the way..." What should be instinctual from cradle now is disintegrated into many disconnected parts, waiting for each one to find it and fashion it anew.... difficult task. Ah, continuity of purpose... intentions, home isn't made of serendipity... the hearth fire isn't the glow of a flat screen.... the dry, warm, quiet inner security isn't provided by gated community security....
Heaven's door, the eternal home.

[Domo]

I agree with roarke, home is many things. Home doesn't have to be a place where you live, but more so a place where you yourself feel safe. I read this over and over again, and think of what it means to me, which is how all poetry should be. To me, it seems like a poem towards apathy, or a rite to aspire freedom. I always feel like these poem formats will never become redundant, and that is very true. Tate, you keep your work fresh, you keep it to the point where we always turn a new corner in your life, and we let that certain part of our mind, that lets you vision life, trigger, so we can see through your eyes and view the true mutual feel of, for this poem, home.

[Art Sun]

nice work Tate...you have guided us through those experiences of life, love, and family...it is a walk that each of us makes in individual ways...with a bit of the spiritual view of God and the Heavens...and that is truly our real home...

[Rossen]

like a man out of his time, you bring the heart to the future, a true poet
pointing the way so we keep are feet under our heart...

Rossen

[Marie Harrison]

This was a unique poem for you
I loved the poem, it's very meaningful to me.
Sometimes I miss where I came from
Life was so simple and carefree

[sharonlee]

I really enjoyed reading this Tate... open to interpretation on many levels... love & poignancy flow within this... loss and eternal wondering of what may have been..... that last stanza is stunning.

Peace

[Judy Ponceby]

this is beautiful tate. the music speaks to me like the mountain music from my father's side of the family. Your words flow across the page like the need for home aches in one's bones when they are far away. Wonderful write, and hardly indicative of a first attempt. :) The music, picture and your words combine to showcase a fine piece of art with heart.

Nice written Tate. you did a good job with this abstract poem. Home will always longing... wherever it for someone might be... for one it's heaven, for another the universe, for another just home... your message will give everyone a single thought... Well done.

~ Elisa Laura

[Raven Starhawk]

spellbinding flow...this is what compels me to read on and without delay. Your muse is amazingly creative and I apologize if I spelled anything wrong in this review. XD

[G. Marie"floating on an..]

This is so beautiful, Tate.... Bells of the town clock tower did take too much from me...... I love that line....... I had such a beautiful feeling in my heart after reading this..... great abstract poem and your comment was beautifullly written as well......