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Fragments, Spring and Summer, 1999
Contributed by
3660days
on
Sunday, 5th April 2009 @ 07:50:05 PM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
words, words, words
and what are words...?
words are ink,
words are paper,
words are life
to me
yes Peace, you knew it!
you must have been
the first to know
that words are life
to me
words, words, words
ink and paper,
tears and blood.
***
sometimes when I get discouraged
I like to listen to Christian music..
like DC Talk, or the Katinas..
and it always makes me feel
so much lighter.
Yes, of course
my maybe-Indian-girl,
how good, how right
that the music
makes you feel light
***
I have walked these woods
a thousand times, ancient echoes
following
but today,
a deeper place than this,
and I am following the trail
of the maybe-indian-bride,
who runs on ahead of me,
not to escape, only
to lead me forward...
I know that she is
an Indian bride,
pledged to the sacred
ceremony of her people
and I am chasing, to know,
if she is a bride for me
or for another?
And still she is fading away,
maybe beyond my power,
more likely beyond her own,
and fading into the sunset
like so many others before
fading into the Spirit
she loved so much
as she had confided in me
when we spoke, that time
and now she is gone,
and I am sitting here
in this ancient green forest,
on a flat rock-slab
at the edge of my lake
new lake
watching for her return,
but waiting, waiting, waiting,
and somehow knowing,
she will not return
this bride of another.
***
though you wrote about violets
you were always a sunflower
though you talked about magic
you were always a realist
and, dear sunshine,
though you sang about freedom
it was a high
you never knew
***
they are gone, gone, gone,
every one gone...
the bubbling brook
has flowed far, far away from here
to bigger, better rivers
of delight and gladness,
thinking, in her churning
not of me.
and my maybe-Indian-bride...the one
who never even knew that she was,
has gone her way as well
to chant a deeper prayer
on the rolling prairies.
my special sunrise, the comforting guru
has faded at last to day, to noon, to dusk
to night
and others, so many others...
...poets, every one!
...and every one of them,
with a flower in one hand
and verse in the other...
...every one of them has left me now
and is so far removed, so distantly far away
that even if I chased them and found them
our words would fall flat as ice
still, even knowing this,
why does my heart ache for them
as if they had only left an hour ago?...
Copyright ©
3660days
... [
2009-04-05 19:50:05]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Fragments, Spring and Summer, 1999
(User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on
Sunday, 5th April 2009 @ 10:54:32 PM AEST
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a Message)
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Mysterious, thought provoking words.
huggs, smiles, blessings,
emy |
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Re: Fragments, Spring and Summer, 1999
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Friday, 17th April 2009 @ 12:29:24 AM AEST
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Okay, I just got finished reading your series of fragments (and yes I really read them) but am not yet sure I will leave a comment on each one. Oh, side bar note: I rarely critique. I really don't think I am qualified nor should I even do it, even if I wanted to. I just read poems to enjoy.
I like the repetition in this one... words, words, words, gone, gone, gone, etc (you make it work) but especially like the term my maybe Indian bride. That sounds like a separate poem in itself because I was thinking what a nice title it would make.
Anyway, I'll be honest, as I type this, I have only read three of your poems (that I remember---it's a big place here) but I found them very easy to read. So often I come upon a poem here and they stumble... yours did not.. at least these three fragments. :-) So, in other words, they flow very easily.
I find myself thinking and agreeing, yes, words are life!!!! And there is "life" in your writing.
I was also thinking about what seems to be you comparing your life/beliefs to her life/belief and more definitely customs. I like how this went there.
Thank you for a job well done and I will be back for more.
Tim
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