The Edge

I wrote this poem for a man who's grandfather was given one week to live.

 

Standing
On the jagged edge of reason
I glance down
As the crashing waves below
Dance toward the shore
And explode
Into a majestic array of color

I catch my breath
As I watch
The rainbow through the mist

As quickly as it fades
Another wave crashes
And the beauty
Is reborn
 
The sun sets
And the beauty is forgotten

I close my eyes
Hoping to catch a glimpse
Of the image that once defined me

The colors that were once
So vivid
Have dulled

The beauty
That was seemingly eternal
Has passed on
To a place
My mind may never wander

Reviews

[D. Moore]

This was refreshing to my imagination. I don't think I have ever felt anything like it while reading a poem on here.