Her
small fingers brushed paint in bold unconscious strokes
Painting
her future without knowing of love undying
Picking
flowers with a man who was dad, angel, love, accident
He
held her firmly on his perfect broad shoulders
Roses
open on gush of lust
White
carnations, death and dust
Orchids
seal unhappy tombs
Women
weep in too small rooms
The
instant he transformed into that man endearing
One
could not catch the instant the light changed
Only
that there, in her chest, flutters of what could be
Collided
like atoms with what was, reaching for meaning
Poppies
grew to meet our toes
Lilies
grown to meet God's woes
Freesias
stab through rich dark soil
Shining
fancies wrapped in foil
Her
gnarled fingers scratched experience in bold conscious strokes
Subtle
warnings of life not wasted, but not lived
The
sparkle in her eye now the light of ages captured
And
doled out in precious flowers once picked for him
Flowers
held to her quiet chest
Stems
so strong to build a nest
Leaves
divert the perfect rain
Winds
that mask deaths dark refrain
Realization
comes late for rendering proper decisions
So
life greets the day with a lesson of what could have been
Eating
that day with honey and rice helps to cover
The
bitter taste of regret born of living in the shadow of natures flow
Cautionary indeed.
ReplyDeleteHalfway between 'Gather ye rosebuds' and 'Non, rien de rien...'
Liked the way age was denoted by the hands at work.
corey, how wonderful and true. the lesson, "Subtle warnings of life not wasted, but not lived..."
ReplyDeletei am paying attention!
best wishes for a wonderful holiday with your family. xoxo
I love the alternating stanzas, one telling the tale, the other reflective. It works really well. Beautifully written.
ReplyDeleteI like the bold strokes and deft words ~ Vivid tale, weaving stanzas, reflective voice towards the ending lines ~
ReplyDeleteWishing you and your family Merry Christmas Corey ~
Cheers to a joyful season ~
Dear Corey~
ReplyDeleteYou've offered a glimpse into varied possibilites and made this poet/reader ponder perspective and attitude, action and affection. The two part telling here, with amazing floral symbolism, effectively grabs and holds the attention, leading the reader to the next stanza for some sort of fulfillment.
Thank you, and holiday cheer!
the transitions between the gathering of flowers and the alternate story are so elegantly entwined... and such is life no? many stories form one life entangled with the lives of others and all experiences... so beautiful... you are such a gift to us all.
ReplyDeleteI love the flower stanzas the most - the symbolism is so rich and they are also very visual. You always offer a multi-layered view of love and relationships in your poetry, more than give and take, the passion is always clouded by an element of pain, whether it be loss or betrayal. This is why your lines have impact on the consciousness of your readers.
ReplyDeleteCase in point:
The instant he transformed into that man endearing
One could not catch the instant the light changed
Only that there, in her chest, flutters of what could be
Collided like atoms with what was, reaching for meaning...
How sad we live life but not really "live" it. How beautifully you have presented that fact. I have less tomorrows in front of me and I am living them as best I can!
ReplyDeleteI think this may be the first piece of yours that I have read; it won't be the last--so beautifully crafted and layered--I too love the richness of the alternating verses--
ReplyDeleteI love how you unearthed this treasure! I could so relate to the richness and yet the thorns of life. We always have to continue to grow through the bitter n' the sweet~
ReplyDeleteThank you Corey, I love this poem~
There are lots of possibilities and ways of fulfillment attending to them. These can be testing to many. Nicely said Herotomost!
ReplyDeleteMerry Christmas and happy holidays!
Hank