a forest of memories I walk through...
as I pass through light and shade...
dappled thoughts at my feet...
that echo from years gone by...
smiles and laughter, frowns and tears...
are the leaves upon these trees...
and I the gardener who who planted the seed...
each tree I claim as mine...
the blood and sweat of those who cared...
ferment with all my failures...
while all the good deeds that I once did see...
are lost in the forest's litter...
a meadow breaks where sun peeks through...
it warmed my soul a while...
soon weed and bracken choked the ground...
and the petals of flowers wilted and died...
no song bird sings upon the branch...
no cricket chirps beneath the leaves...
all is quiet as silence is the only sound...
her smile that was my sunshine...
her tear that was my rain...
she made this place fertile one time...
a place peasant to be...
now as I walk in this forest of memories...
her voice no longer is whispered to me...
and I try to turn and go back to that place...
the one we shared each day...
I walk through brier and bramble...
bruised and weary I go on...
only to find she is no longer there...
her waiting is over and done...
she dwells in another forest now...
flowers bloom where she walks...
she smiles and brings the sunshine...
her tears sate another's thirst...
her song is sung in far away winds...
no longer will I hear...
now silence is the only sound...
amidst these trees I now fear...
I spoke to my friend again, she sees through me like glass. I believe she called me Mr. Transparent, I honestly believe she knows where my heart lies. Even though we do not speak of it any more, subtle nuances still enter the conversation, maybe it is a word or a phrase I unconsciously type in, but she will let me know in her way that I have yet to let go. I try and tell her I am putting it behind me, I know she sees through that though and she will quickly change the subject as not to let me dwell on it too long.
She is a very benevolent person, never have I seen her place her problems to me, but rather shows concern for those she cares about over herself. I don't know if it is her way of paying penance for something she feels she needs to, but I do know she has been through and survived many trials in her life and she has yet to lose that positive outlook that seems to radiate from her like warmth from the sun.
The poem I have written I know she and the person I wrote it about will understand its meaning. I guess she is right, I just can seem to let this one go.
Later...
2 comments:
A graceful poem and I love how you've escaped the confines of forced rhyme. Now you need to escape the habitual ellipsis use.
A lot of the analogy's are interesting although I don't understand the possessive lines;
and I the gardener who who planted the seed...
each tree I claim as mine...
Perhaps you'll tell me what you saw as you wrote them Mr Transparent.
I'll just end with the beauty of believing and the admiration of continually trying and of positive steps forward. But nothing is as it was and every thing that was has already slipped into yesterday. A second chance needs to be understood entirely. When you sign any contract always read any contractual conditions!
Any mistakes now will be new ones and not repeated ones.
I'll step away now and wish you both good luck.
Here is an anagram - see if you can solve it:
"a corn garden"
Clue is two people.
Do we not create our own garden? That would make us the gardeners of that and we would be the one planting those seeds, tended the garden and watch those efforts create what we now see. It meant for good or bad, what I see is what I have created.
Possessive lines were nothing more than accepting responsibility for my life.
Later...
Ron
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