Swallow in the sun
22 December 2014
Engulfed in shadows
The earth seeks a source of light
As ice takes over
Cold draft stills the mind that seeks
Door ajar to inner light
A ray pierces through
From long forgotten valley
Where day lasts forever
Dumbstruck, in awe, I observe
As it shines, translucent, raw
Bathing in its warmth
A lizard stretches its tail
Remnant of past pride
What is lost is found anew
Says silent spirit to mind
Door closing bathes red
From light seeping through tight veins
That burn with the past
Blood to blood shall call again
As storms well inside abode
The boatman carries
Ten white lilies like ten souls
That start to wither
Will storm flood the lilies’ nest
Building darkness from unrest?
Flickering shadows
Trace a path to yesterday
Etched in my bosom
I yearn in silent sorrow
For two thousand years gone by
A fluttering bird
Rises in the falling dusk
Beak shattering door
Ice scatters around my heart
A thousand rays flow within
Swallow in the sun
Wings outstretched basking in heat
Soars above the earth
Its flight makes mellow my heart
That roared with winter’s approach
This poem actually has me stumped. I’ve bookmarked it, and will read it again later. I like it – in fact, I like it a lot – but I can’t really put my finger on exactly what it is that I like about it. It’s like this poem has its own aura … difficult to define, but very easy to like and appreciate. Actually, come to think of it, while I will probably come back to read this poem again, I’m going to do so without trying to define it – it would change my appreciation for it, and I happen to like this poem enough not to try to change how I regard it 🙂
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Some of the introspective techniques I use for self-knowledge and acceptance include traveling into my body (figuratively speaking) and studying the points of concern. Perhaps that explanation together with the knowledge of what the swallow represents could give some of the meanings intended with this poem. I have actually packed it with several references and meanings, maybe too many – which can make it seem obscure
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Obscurity in a poem isn’t always a bad thing, as it can wrap a poem’s meanings in layers to the point that every time one reads it, a new meaning can be discovered. In that regard, a seemingly obscure poem can be a symbol for some fairly profound wisdom 🙂
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I agree. My father once made a comment upon reading my French poetry and I thought it was quite funny; he said my poetry was very rich with feeling and meaning and he said so much so that I am afraid that it might only be after your death that the meaning will unfold for many. I found it hilarious 🙂
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With some of what you do, your father may not be too far off the mark … it is a different way of saying that you are ahead of your time. As long as you enjoy what you create now, when everyone else is able to catch up to you isn’t as important 😉
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I do enjoy creating and some people like you understand and appreciate so as you say the rest does not matter
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I never thought I would hear (or read) myself say this; but I’m sure there are quite a few people like me, rather than simply ‘some,’ who understand and appreciate your creative efforts 🙂 And I am very happy that you enjoy what you do … there are some creative geniuses out there who feel driven and compelled to create, and take no enjoyment from what they do, other than the feeling of finally having the latest urge out of their system.
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Personally I think it would be sad to create and not be able to see your creation from the outside in order to appreciate it like anyone else. I understand the compulsion that drives as I have the same and feel I have to get the writing out of my system failing which I would actually feel physically unwell but when it is good I am able to appreciate it as if it were not mine
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