Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.
the heart sways
the heart sways the branches
but I am more shadow than you
the rub is silk in silence
between the moments of morning
so that thin birds slip through
this is the limit of the light
mushroom and clover things
shaping their form in dry leaves
with every nothing of the world
into spring
Editing stage:
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.
Comments
Roscoe Lane
Thu, 2012-04-19 05:00
We all,
We all have our shapes or paths in lifes momentun, and our hearts at times can lead us into troubled times. But always there seems to be away out, subconsciencly we all sense the dangers in life. Your poem is good but with a touch here and there could be better. Especially the ending. Liked it anyway. Regards Roscoe..
Roscoe Llane,
Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.
Nordic cloud
Thu, 2012-04-19 11:06
Oh you are here
Oh I love this, I do...
you turn my mind,
my eyes,
my consciousness together
in a floating mysterious manner
describing something that evolves into the surge of Spring,
so beautifully done,
Barry, so beautifully done.
I like it as it is, exactly.
Ann.
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
Orphani
Thu, 2012-04-19 15:20
the key to this Ann is that
the key to this Ann is that it is actually an oblique love poem.
,even as the lovers contrast
as rubbing branches of light and shadow, these differences harmonize into
renewal and affirmation.
B
author commentNordic cloud
Thu, 2012-04-19 15:32
I realised that, and as that
I realised that, and as that was what I even experienced
with it while reading it, I didn't allude to that aspect of it.
I love the way you say "oblique love poem" that fits it exactly,
like the oblique shadows merging, the one kind and the other.
Ever the lover. Smile of happiness for them...!
Ann.
It is still a stunning poem about Spring,
the most unusual one I ever read,
if you look at it from that point of view too.
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.