The will of love
clears my path,
as stroll beneath
its shade,
amid meadows
of distraction,
beside lakes
of longing,
I am ever led
to reach into
pounding crash of
shoreline breakers.
And thence, bear
witness over the
turn of tide.
And now, the
season too, readies
to turn it's back
upon bleak winter.
Yet, here, within
these ageing bones,
springtime
holds no allure.
Life itself, a poetry
which writes
within us,
where it will,
as it will.
Much beyond
sentient bidding,
it bleeds
from our
very hearts.
-
Author:
dusk arising (
Offline) - Published: February 14th, 2021 00:06
- Comment from author about the poem: Saddened by a story of much sadness I was moved to write this piece. We all know changes of season for our hearts. I am pleased to state that I am most definitely looking forward to the springtime and its rebirth.\r\n
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 52
- Users favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses, L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments8
You go very metaphorical (probably a better word, but I can't think of it right now) at times , dusk and loose me.
Unfortunately YouTube is holding out on me where I am (Video unavailable) wherein may lie the solution.....
No apologies for lack of quick reply which you mentioned elsewhere. Often i leave it a day or more before responding to comments unless some of them inspire me to be qicker.... no hard and fast rules or order in which i do things you see. I've always been a disorganised shambles. Did my explanation to Fay's comment (below) assist in making any sense of my ambiguous metaphors in this piece?
Your explanation to Fay's post did make sense of your poem - only Fay didn't pose the question to which you supplied the answer - it was me. You are the one doing the 'ask you nicely' to me. And here you are - back here again. that's not disorganisation that's.....
I repeat: At this point let's both take care, as I have a feeling in my waters that our interactions could deteriorate, and I have no particular wish to let this happen - I like your work and your style.
I don't know if your metaphors were ambiguous objectively - I mostly just don't get that stuff. So the deficit is mine. How can someone survive on a poetry site and not understand metaphors? Ridiculous!
Good write dusk.
Nothing 'tired' about this poem! A hymn-line says 'This tired and weary earth'.
My knees are tired any weary.... lockdown/shielding has been a weight gain period for me and my arthritic knees are complaining.
Oh dear, hope things improve, that you will be, as one elderly person used to say to me 'I'm as well as can be expected'. I got the itch, not fleas! Dry skin in very cold weather.
Very sad write but a beautiful piece nontheless. I also feel somewhat down with all the awful news but have a happy streak within me looking forward to Springs rebirth. Already so many signs are showing so all will be well despite the aging bones, uncut hair, leaking garage roof, collapse of the art market, fault on the tv outlets around the house, Trump effectively in charge of the Republicans who are s**t scared to go against him, still damn cold outside. But otherwise all okay!!!
Sorry to read of your troubles here. Nuture that happy streak, it becomes ever more essential as those years stack up on us. Thank you for reading and your kind appreciation.
All tongue in cheek lol
🥴
When one is living the events unfolding, the Republicans completely surrendering their humanity, the pandemic and multitudes of worldly events, is it too much to still hope for loves silver lining? I think not.
Mohangupta, never forget that no matter how terrible the world and it's politics affacts us, it is still possible to apply the relief of anusol to ones burning afflictions.
Keep sqeezing the tube dusk.
Aint got a spare nozzle have ya guv? Wifes gnawed mine down to a stump.
Nah - cotton buds any use to yer?
You broaden the effect that these troubled times has on us all dear friend and you word it so well that it brings sad sighs - - lockdown and continual news has proved so powerful to many -- yet your poetic mention of Spring's entrance lifts this reader's heart as buds stand ready to show that - - "this too will pass" - - a moving read Dusk - - roll on these needed changes.
A poem conceived from a love story I watched on TV. First verse was supposed to relate to faith in love and its crashing waves of passion only to find disappointment at the turn of tide - then on to verse two's blues of heatbreak and three's essence of poetry as an expression of life's twists and turns. I rarely explain my stuff but today i feel a compelling urge with this piece.
Thank you as ever for reading my stuff and commenting. It's good to read you are looking forward to life again 'sans notre resrtictions de la liberte'.
A quick clue as to video content SVP, nothing too extensive - don't want to tire you.
Dave, asking you nicely, please don't tag onto other peoples comments. Please either add onto your own existing comment or start a new one. The you tube URL is a recording of sonny rollins playing god bless the child.
Point taken, dusk - with the rider that if you had responded to me at the top, as you did the others minus me, I would have responded as part of that thread.
At this point let's both take care, as I have a feeling in my water that our interactions could deteriorate, and I have no particular wish to let this happen - I like your work and your style. If you have anything against mine, do let me know, either here or privately.
Feel free to delete this after reading if you so wish.
You are a poet, to whom a subject is only a reason.
I'm turning over your cryptic comment in my mind and i'm still in a quandary. Nonetheless, thank you for reading my post and providing me with such a 'food for thought' comment.
Very nice leaning on the strength of spring hear as well. Ice storm on the way.
This poem was all about the eternal desire for romantic love and it's all to often failure to last (turn of tide) along with its disappointment (spring holding no allure) etc etc.... However it was all just a fantasy induced by a love story on the TV.
Thank you for reading Jerry and your regular and welcome commenting.
Wonderful emotive write in these hard times d a, but Spring is there for us and hopefully the beauty of it will come into our hearts.
Andy
Too right Andy. And boy am I looking forward to spring if we are going to have a bit of freedom to enjoy it. Thirty odd years ago I was having a lot of enjoyment in the countryside around Evesham and Pershore which were some of my happiest days on this planet.
This, be that duality of meaning, in all existence:
'Yet, here, within
these ageing bones,
springtime
holds no allure.
Life itself, a poetry
which writes
within us,
where it will,
as it will.'
what a great write Dusk, its those harsh reality's that help us glean our life's true value and how poetic you've versed our collective truth's with your write my talented friend...
we hate terms like realism, pragmatism and acceptance, they sound so limiting when voiced, so archaic when read and yet,
when a talented wordsmith finds inspiration those same - stale, words and ideas - ignite
a burning realisation of what truth's we hide beneath all those excuses we lament, to rid ourselves of that inescapable feeling:
whispering, there is yet so much more to this dwindling horizon, we face bravely with each treasured breath...
Well WOW! what can I say other than a huge thank you for such a wonderful comment.
When inspiration strikes I am lucky to be able to switch off the world and sink into the feelings I am experiencing - a positive for living alone I guess. This inspiration hit at about 4am whilst watching a film i had recorded. Yep my body clock has bust a spring in lockdown.
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