Sharing a couple of posts from an old blog that was secretly hidden somewhere in this big virtual world. Managed to resurrect it from the ashes of the obscure and the decadent. These are disjointed writings. They are neither poems nor prose, but rather effervescent thoughts that have held my mind at ransom at various points in time.
“Out of the blue grasses and the wood smoke rise tiny dreams of unknown lands of the East. Out of morning dewdrops and the mist that hangs like a wispy thin curtain of misplaced love rises a life so little and insignificant that perhaps a gentle nudge of a truant breeze is enough to scatter it all over verdant meadows like abandoned dandelion tufts.
And maybe out of all this is awakened the desire to go back to the old..the known…the easily understood pathways…
Swept away by the wind…”
“At sunset the horizon bled in gold and your face bloomed like a rose.
At sunrise I watched you promenade across mists bathed in my autumn dreams.
Sunsets and sunrises. Moments fly into eternity.
And here I stand clutching a throbbing heart to a hollow chest the shape of an ancient oak tree.
Visions of sunsets…”
So much for now. Till something new strikes my mind. Au revoir and happy winter !
This reads like a poem. The last line: “Visions of sunsets…” suggests a title to me.
Although the poem opens facing eastward and into dawn (suggesting a new beginning), the second stanza quickly points to a return to something lost, upon which, perhaps many, suns of the past have set: “And maybe out of all this is awakened the desire to go back to the old..the known…the easily understood pathways…” Of course this evokes a different place to me, a simpler place which, as the reader, I instinctively agree with the poet’s musing about a desired return to a pathway “easily understood”.
An incomplete analysis, just for fun.
Thank you so much. These were really bits and pieces of thoughts. Disjointed. Perhaps with a meaning or no meaning at all. Anyway, good that you analyzed them 🙂
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