Thy lap O Gaia my mother Earth
where we all offsprings rest,
and quench our perennial thirst
from thy ever-flowing breast.
Fetch me O beloved mother
to thy empowering lap,
for thy son is solitary and hurt
and unable to cross the gap.
Nobody can ever deny thy sons,
a chance to receive thy nectar,
Thy grace and this blessed love
is sacred and benefactor.
Nothing is more painful to me
than her aloofness and nonchalance.
My heart seeks her relentlessly
and the mind has lost its balance.
From trust springs the love
and from the love, sacrifice.
She, ignorant of my true love,
is turning me into an edifice
It'll be disgraceful to die
for such want across the gap.
before I vanish, O mother,
take me in thy graceful lap.
-
Author:
Max (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 27th, 2022 00:06
- Comment from author about the poem: a pessimistic swing of mood in love.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments1
contrasting..
why seek, what makes you feel
detached - a gap
away from laps, denied to
you
when you have pillows, to
choose from..
seek the comfort, you deserve
falling six feet, to find solace
is a warping of reality's, fallacy..
the inevitable, awaits
best to strive for what you, can
while you still have a chance..
(a good write
and yeah, I too feel the same
sometimes, but
it's a futile mindset
best
to shake ourselves free
and look forward again
if we spend too much time
looking at what's below us
we'll find our faces, smacking
into our horizon's)
Thank you, dear poet. I was looking for your attention for many days. To reply to your comment...When the connection is felt so deep like a placenta and beyond one's power or will to step away....what do we seek except interaction and experience just because of the way nature has made us from the beginning of the creation, Yan and Yin, Masculinity and Femininity, Consciousness and Nature, an idea in completeness. The only way to grow is to seek experience and interaction, till the time we need no more or merge into the experience itself. . Just the insecure mood swings of a mad poet flirting along the tangents of insanity
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