Somewhere behind
the standing shadow
desolate with grief
is a returning light
and a flame reviving
It is a brooch of flame
revisiting the heart
carried low by history
and slung with earth
from a long journey
It is a brooch of flame
in a flower budding
but not into a tree
for the slow reaping
of ideas bent there
No sharper a dream
on waking to the coal
you held like pumice
to the breast pocket
of a worn out jacket
Rough as the cinder
you hold there now
a residue of memory
a stone like a rune
you always cling to
A tree tended gently
gives an only flower
worthy of this flame
for it simply consumes
what life it was given
Then quietly recedes
to the stem and root
as a monument retains
an inscribed solitude
worn bare over time
We covet the stone
more than any flame
it is rebirthed again
as humility will offer
a gift more genuine
Still some slight editing to do on this. But I'll leave it for tonight to avoid overthinking it.
ReplyDeleteMate, I love this. That said, it starts off real strong first 3 stanzas then flags a little, picks up some but doesn't end as strong as it started. Only my opinion. Back in my box.
ReplyDeleteI like this a lot.
ReplyDeleteTerrific, rough as a diamond!
ReplyDelete