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Tuesday, April 1, 2008

It is Time

A poem of mine:


Beneath soft coverlet of white

and underneath our filth and grime,

another world lost from our sight

will spring again when it is time.

Despite our careless wanton ways,

we, too, are part of life’s design,

although it seems we never learn

that all are one and intertwine.

If we could heed a simple truth

of cycles turning by degree,

perhaps we’d linger in our youth,

as wisdom teaches: just to be.


2 comments:

  1. Was this written with Earth hour in mind? That is how I have read it, of course a poem is not necessarily about the same thing to everyone is it? I think that is the magic in writing, words evoke different thoughts and meaning from one person to the next but the writer will have always have there own personal definition.
    I love poetry, I wish with all my heart I was a little more worldly wise so I could use that in written work. I don't read enough.
    Lovely flow of words with much depth and meaning Glo, I liked it alot.

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  2. Hi Daffy :) I wrote the poem awhile ago, but it definitely would fit in with observing the Earth hour and any environmental concerns. You're right about different interpretations when writing or reading a poem. We see things from our purview. It's wonderful to hear what someone else sees in my words and images, because then it expands my thoughts, too. I think anyone who stops to gaze at cloud formations (even if they are stopped at a red light) has a poetic soul. You'd probably be surprised what you could come up with. I think the secret to writing is to let yourself be in a place of wonder, and see what images and thoughts arise. If one struggles too much, the muse isn't in the room :) Thanks so much for your lovely and complimentary post :)

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