Pencil Shavings

Monday, September 13, 2004

A Place

Write me a song and rekindle my hope
In a place far away and certain
A place by the stream in the wood
A moment full and still.

The robin will sing an ode to love
The waters reply in rousing song
Woods will echo deep to deep
Spring will glisten in the dew.

The sun’s journey in the sky
Blazes fiercely in the noonday glare
Shadows grow as the days trudge on
Bodies break with dark despair.

Come and play in the sparkling stream
Do cartwheels on the rolling hills
Water will wash it all away
At the quiet place
By the stream
In the wood.

3 comments:

colinrt said...

Another poem? well done...
This one definitely has got a rhythm going...

Your poems have a certain poignancy to them...
You describe this idyllic, restorative (almost spa-like place - where the spring waters wash away the dark despair from the broken body) and yet you plead for some one to rekindle your hope in it through song... as though you have all but lost hope in ever returning to this "Eden"... so unattainable... :(

mis_nomer said...

heya, thanks for the comment. In a way, even though I entreat the reader to write me a song, I go ahead and write the song and so rekindle hope.

It is about a place at the journey's end that is both far away yet certain. It was originally titled "Coming Home" - that's a more hopeful title, no? :)

colinrt said...

hmmm... makes a big difference... coming home instantly puts a certainty to the final destination... yes, a much happier ending indeed... :)