Words live beyond the wavesof emotion
beyond the wide eyes
of anger
beyond the open heart
of love
choose your brush
and paint the day
yellow or red
your choice
live they do
in the mind
and heart
launched
they are
as bird
from nest
vulture or dove
your choice
just remember
park under
a tree
shade
or
shat
the same is true
for those words
never uttered
for they too
live
as a cave
empty
in the hearts
left
behind
ears remember
what is said
and what
is not shared
the unsung bell
rings longer
and
perhaps
loudest
12 comments:
Yellow or red, pleasant memories come to visit, corners of the mouth climbing, papa's image in the mind's eye, just those words, that is magic. :-)
The first two stanzas are especially expressive, and the last three (not to deter from the middle). As I touched upon above, your ability to with great innovativeness and artistry hold and release, to take and to share, is as fascinating as it is delightful.
Words live beyond the waves
of emotion
beyond the wide eyes
of anger
beyond the open heart
of loveI don't have the words to say how much I love this. Enormously evocative, as one follows the preceding, images roll through the mind merging and interchanging with increasing frequency, moments lived, moments imagined, summoned by tone, meaning. This first stanza is a poem in itself, so lovely.
The second, expressed so well, is a wonderful reminder of how much influence we have upon the lives that we live. We may not be able to control what happens as we travel through life, but we are granted the great opportunity, the good fortune, of being able to choose how we react, where we direct our focus. Yellow, bright and glowing, not always easy to find, but always there. I love the phrase 'paint the day', illustrative and intoxicating, it makes me want to head to the beach for sunset, to sit with my back against the rock and watch the morning paint itself across the sky, it has that same sense of endless opportunity, of joy and thankfulness, of Life. This one phrase, as one reads, could (if there were not words around it to steal attention) fill every corner of mind, heart and time, spouting roots and growing branches. I loved this poem so after just these two first stanzas.
tbc..
Sweetest, this was almost a chapter in The Story, so close it could have been from Papa's lips to Kyra. Two common refrains melding together in this poem. First, the impact of words, of what we say; and, second, the impact, speaking of my father, of those words never uttered. I really like the word "Unsung" in this context, of praise withheld or if not withheld, not given. There will always be an empty place in my heart waiting for those words, words that will never come since my father is four years past. Still, that place in my heart will remain as a cave, for nothing else can occupy that sacred place.
As always and forever, your comments mean the world to me. Thank you for being you. :-)
Tree, I go away for awhile and come back to find you writing poetry. I quite like it! Is it something in the air that we both are writing poetry? or is it just because April is national poetry month?
W, must be something in the air. How is the nude music coming along? :-D
LOL, I'm kind of waiting for warmer weather. I'm thinking some day soon now though.
I don't know, I think I'd kinda like to see you playing in the chill. :-D
hahaha, you find goose bumps erotic?
only the larger ones. ;-)
Now these are the loveliest words I have read in a looooooooooooooooooooooooooooong time Mister Tree.
Thank you kindly Ms SarahA. You have arrived with a basket full of smiles and I feel the need to brew some tea and ask you to enjoy the day with me. :-)
yea, silence is louder than words at times. What remains unsaid is more potent....
Mona, exactly!
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