There are more words in my head and my heart that want to be in these lines; probably one of these days I will add to the poem. For now, here it is: and as usual, I can't think of the title. It will come to me some day....I hope....
We called the earth
our mother,
The wind our father.
We sang the words,
and whistled, and laughed for freedom;
We laughed with love of dreaming,
of one another:
We missed the tears in his murmurs,
the sob in her breath.
We realized when we, silent,
stood by our children
And loved with so much anguish,
such helpless passion,
Our hands were his, caressing,
that could not hold them,
Her arms outstretched for her children,
but empty till death.
Monday, June 7, 2010
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5 comments:
Intriguing poem, Katie. I also enjoy your blog's name; does it come from the legend of Prometheus perhaps? Anyway, awesome post and write on!
Thanks Vatche! And yes, the blog is Prometheus-inspired, specifically by a poem "The Proud Poet" by Joyce Kilmer.
On second reading, the last four lines hit me (and especially re: the last line) like a freight train. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
That's exactly it, S.L. It's perhaps not as clear of an idea as it should be through the whole poem, hence the need to work another few lines in there somewhere. Thanks for the visit.:)
something powerful here about loss and grief. i hear taps playing...
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