On yesterday's remains

Now wandering in the clearing, still some leaves are tickling me

Trying to find some shade but there's none that I can see

And though it makes all visible from the distance in the plain

I seem to struggle finding which path leads towards my aim

But steps are to be taken, truth is only found by trying

And fear is devious when in doubt, advising you but lying

So through the haze from questions of yesterday’s remains

I’ll make a move and keep on going till blood is in my veins

You spent some time and wrote me your own heart-warming word

And I feel blessed, it made my sight look instantly less blurred

So let’s keep celebrate and be happy for the long haul

This new year’s here for me, but ‘fore I go I thank you all.

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

I like this
It’s mysterious
What I found sad was the last line
I wonder where the writer is going

[Mister Peculiar]

Hi Julie,

thanks for the feedback. Well, I know where the writer was going (and perhaps had gone already?) but I prefer the reader to picture the poem with their own perception.

I think a poem, or art in general, is a means to stimulate feelings in the reader. Then is the reader who will drive those feelings depending on their own needs. Or should the poet direct the reader? What do you think?

[Julie McCarthy (juliespenhere)]

Sometimes I like my writings that I write to leave it to readers imagination and then to work out their own happy sad ending but more often than not I do opposite which I’m trying to break
I think either way is ok but prefer the reader to work out