Hiraeth

Luna falls behind a wall of dense clouds;
my thoughts drifting into the deep, dark night.
There are things about me that none will know,
half-hidden in secretive candlelight.

My impulse to move, my reasons to stay,
my whims are like wind across the water.
I am kismet, carved in destiny’s wheel.
I am a woman but no one’s daughter.

Nothing too special nor notably grand,
I am a shadow that whispers unheard.
I linger in longing, ceaselessly age
beyond the backbone of every word.

My pen is a needle to thread the moon.
I harness starlight from another clime
and gently dream it and wish it were so
that I were conceived in another time.

This world suffers profoundly from the core.
It seems everything is come undone.
We trip in darkness, balance on the brink,
wrap Rosaries around a coward’s gun.

I yearn for the where of sweet yesteryears,
the absence of tears in penitent eyes,
and the consoling calm of love’s escape
like soft-pleated wings across endless skies.

Luna gathers the hem of her pale dress,
skirting softly over the garden loam,
returns to my city, my street, my name
behind the beautiful walls of my home.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Cassie]

This is mind blowing, you could lend me your pen for a bit. This is so good and sad at the same time. You have brought out the feeling too well. Good job

[Robert Trakofler]

electric glistening moonbeams just shot thru my monitor and glared a brilliant tone into my eye sockets just now give me second for my eyes to adjust to finish writing this review... Okay I can see thru the floaters enough to type now that line nothing special is what makes you special when you write without ego and let the beams pass through you...you get this sort of writing:) sublime sagacity in splendorous scrawls. The price of this (unfortunately) is the cost of acute sensitivity of one surroundings (I don't mind the price of the ticket so much its a great ride) thankfully you have a hearth of gold to return too:) this is all lovely Linda

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Robert. Your review is a priceless gem all its own. :-)

[R.E. Ray]

I see a midnight poet at her window, reflecting on today’s world, what she knew years before, and perhaps allowing time to enhance the past, an escape to childhood, when we painted the world with bright Crayons and didn’t know naivety as a weakness... but a gift. Please excuse the rambling. That’s what flowed from this poem... A painting framed in a poet’s heart and hands.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you so much.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Quite a captivating piece of poetry you have weaved together... such a sense of wonderment in your words, also a bit of mystery and intrigue. Simply wonderful work with the pen.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you so much.

[Richard🖌]

Hiraeth has such a wonderfully multifaceted, interesting meaning, and because of my Welsh ancestry and ties, I thought it deserved ample recognition, with its poetic beauty defined and shared:
"Hiraeth" pronounced [hee-drrīth] is a Welsh word, a concept of longing for home.
It is a "feeling" word which cannot be completely translated to language, meaning more than solely "missing something" or "missing home". It implies the meaning of missing a time, an era, or a person -- including homesickness for what may not exist any longer. It is associated with the bittersweet memory of missing something or someone, while being grateful of that/their existence. It can also be used to describe a longing for a homeland, of your ancestors, where you may have never been.
And, it (and the picture) fits this poem to absolute perfection.

Dear Linda Marie 🌼
I hope you don't mind my sharing that with your readers … if so, I'll omit it from the review.
In fact, if one were to know, beforehand, your "title's" meaning, they will realize all the more just how succinctly and amazingly your incomparably gripping lines, filled by emotion, ethereality, hope, desire, and the sheer wonderment of deepest spiritual longing/loneliness/sorrow sweeping through your poem, truly exemplifies the most heart, soul, and mind-felt essences of "Hireath".

"My impulse to move, my reasons to stay,
such whims are like wind across the water.
I am kismet, carved in destiny’s wheel.
I am a woman but no one’s daughter. (how very-very deep this is, Linda)

Nothing too special nor notably grand,
I am a shadow that whispers unheard. (whoosh! pouring body/soul visuals!)
I linger in longing, ceaselessly age,
beyond the backbone of every word. (what amazing metaphor)

My pen is a needle to thread the moon.
I harness starlight from another clime
and gently dream it and wish it were so
that I were conceived in another time. (lonnng poignant sighhh!)

"Mesmerized" ⁓ trite, but ohhh-so apt!

M'Dear, V5L2, check "is come/is coming" for clarity and to sort count.

A soft touch of gratefulness and respect to you, Linda Marie, not for all you so enormously and naturally feel this time, but for learning to write in such ways that we are ever captive to your pen … hugs 'n love! ⁓ Richard 🍃

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Richard, for the in-depth review. No, I don't mind your revealing the origin and definition of the word. I figured most people would take the time to look it up if they didn't know it, but you have saved them the time. :-) V5L2 has ten syllables, which is on par with the other lines; but thank you for bringing it to my attention because I did triple check. My ancestry is German/Welsh, Pennsylvania Dutch, and Native American. I'm a hapless mutt. :-)

[Richard🖌]

You're certainly welcome, Linda Marie.
Many never will look it up, and will miss the essence of your poem … it is my hope that everyone will understand the unique essences of your poetry.
------------------------------------
Webster's Unabridged English Dictionary
"everything" (3-syllables):
everything | ˈevrēˌTHiNG |
pronoun
"It / seems/ eve / ry / thing / is / come / un / done." (9)
"It seems everything is coming undone." (10)
[or, some-such] : )
------------------------------------
I'm soon gonna start ducking … LOL!

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Syllablecounter.net shows it as four syllables. I read it as four syllables as well, so I'm going with what I've got. Thanks.

[Richard🖌]

Hm?
Well, okay.

[Richard🖌]

Here's a much more "accurate" site,
if you want to be in the right.
https://www.howmanysyllables.com

[Chris Shaw]

This beautiful poem has me nostalgic for my childhood home and all who were there and how we lived. Things were so uncomplicated back then. Wonderfully poetic with some exceptional lines. Just lovely.

Chris

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Chris. Nostalgia is the spindle upon which we thread so many thoughts and verse. Thank you for stopping by to visit with me for a while.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"my pen is a needle to thread the moon"
"wrap rosaries around a coward's gun"
i wish i had written those two lines.
this poem depicts the world as it is...and how as poets...we will comment on it with our lines...and yet we want anonymity...we want to stay in the shadows...especially the older poets who feel it is someone else's turn to come forward...we did in the sixties...we tried, maybe failed to change the world for the better but we tried...now...? who's trying now?
although it is more like Journey sang..
"who's crying now?"
inspiring and thoughtful poem...
j.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Jacob. Those are my two favorite lines as well. I love it when you're in the middle of writing, and a line comes to you like that. You know, immediately, that it's so good. It really gets you excited for what's next to come. Thank you for always leaving such great reviews. Be well.