Contemplating the End

Past my prime
Bent with toil
I stand in gloom
In the dark soil

The flame flickers
The smoke is thick
The spring is gone
The tree is sick

Spring and summer
The friends of old
Watched in awe
Blossoms unfold

The sun still shines
The birds do sing
Who knows if I
Will see the spring

A few last gasps
A few buds smile
My last daughters
Will breathe awhile

My final song
Soulful and deep
Shall speak to God
And I shall sleep

Author's Note

This poem is about a contemplation of the end of literary creativity... When I wrote this poem, a few months back, I thought that I had reached the end of my creativity and would stop writing altogether... So I wrote this poem... Strangely though, that did not happen .... :)

Reviews

[José Humilde]

AHHH, I get it now. You should put up a few notes on your pieces to help dummies such as myself along the way. haha.

Well with what I know, this all is making perfect sense.

My favorite part is with the flickering flame and the smoke getting thick. Anyone familiar with fire knows that well, a flame flickers when it is almost going out (such as in a candle) and that smoke can come after a fire is put out.

It seems to me like your creativity is more than alive and well. :)

thanks again for clearing it up for me.

-JH

[José Humilde]

Nice poem. I like the flow. It keeps me reading through quite nicely.

One question. What is going on!? I just might be too daft to understand, but I couldn't figure it out. You mention soil, trees, fire. So I was thinking that a tree was about to get caught up in a forrest fire?

Something to think about. :)

Thanks for sharing!

-JH

[aaaa]

It flows very well. I like it.

[Christina May Shanaberg]

I, particularly, liked the first and last stanzas. The poem read well, as a whole, however. A very good write!