On Melting

Reivax Camlost

What falls while sleeping, speaks to me;

a grace upon that frozen ground,

a voice that dreams, what things might be—

in restlessness, and melting round

the base of a bejeweled spruce—

I'd thought, wherein were only larks.

Though seeing icemelt in the grass,

and loose, I think it's not so stark:

What's dreamt in falling, need not last, and I

can learn to love a Lark.

  • Author: Reivax Camlost (Offline Offline)
  • Published: December 16th, 2019 12:43
  • Comment from author about the poem: There are plenty of metaphors for love in nature when you look for them. Perhaps the more precious ones aren't contrived, but rather speak to us as a voice within our own minds drawn from some far off place; the snow that melts in the morning, having fallen through the night, need not be so constructed as a term: Rather, it holds a voice within the heart, speaking for its own.
  • Category: Love
  • Views: 12
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors




To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.