Longing for wisdom, for a more enlightened world, to feel the connectedness of all things. Time is a string folding in and around itself.
Somewhere
in the mist of this night must lie a memory, a breath I took while
sleeping, that could fill this...void. The green path stretches
far...too far to dream, almost.
Still beyond this fog I see a
hand outstretched- fingertips curled to beckon me onward, lips
pursed to blow me wisps of fairy dust that I might hurl myself at
last upon this shore where wisteria curtains drape, ivy spills
itself over walls of stone and where, beyond the rolling hills, a
canyon lies where no man shouts at the wind to hear his own
voice but feels instead the silent expanse of sky and soul as it
ripples through the parallel layers of time that he has dared
to mount- red, rich clay whose pores hold secrets tight within
their ticking metronome trapping every voice, every trickle all
the flipping fields that have rocked them through midnights of
blue exploding with globes of sparkling ancient eyes that look
back through rivers of time and glitter Morse code down upon
infants with their eyes closed
This is sweet and dreamy. Strong poetry and insights, wonderfully romantic piece. I liked
to hear his own voice, but feels instead the silent expanse of sky and
soul, as it ripples
through the parallel layers of time, that he
has dared to mount-
red, rich clay whose pores hold secrets, --- because sooo airy! Sweet and upon existance.
This is one one of the best works I have read on here. Very thought provoking and very visual. Refreshing and yet hard to grasp...beckoning as the celestial hand you described. Then, you wrapped it up the same way you began. Brilliant!
Ummm. That was beautiful to witness as well as read. You words were perfect and felt so inviting and heart warming to embrace. Always a pleasure to travel with your words as a guide. Purely Greatest
When I read this, many thoughts are conjoured in my head. The line:
"Still beyond this fog I see a hand outstretched,"
Makes me think of Michelangelo's "The Creation of Adam"
Then I read:
"where no man shouts at the wind to hear his own voice,
but feels instead the silent expanse of sky and soul as it ripples"
This sounds like a paradise to me, a place of reflection rather than bluster.
Your writing is usually unique in my mind for it's imagery, for the music with which you write. But this strikes me for the subject. You bring to mind thoughts of the vast expanse of the space and time in which we exist. I will return to enjoy this poem often.
as I'm currently writing a series of stories about a fairy; you had me at "fairy dust" lol. the word choices here bring a depth of emotion to this piece rarely felt...beautifully romantic *sigh* a lovely trip into a dream...where love lives strong.
such a bravo piece kris, absolutely stunning
thought, ethereal visionry, immaculately
portrayed, heightened state of emotional
rendering that speaks to the heart of every reader.
dream and memory, a provocatively mystifying concept
that leaves the heart in yearning ponder, peace, mike
I have read a few of your pieces now and feel compelled to elude to my appreciation... lovely tone and subject matter. Revelling in the days in the country, growing up, the times I thought could never be pressed aside within my consciousness... Aha! rebirth is good... this is very good....
ty
I write. Read me.
We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, la.. more..