tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669 (are we there yet?) kokopelle 2019-04-21T11:46:47Z tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:920531 2019-04-21T11:46:47Z 2019-04-21T11:46:47Z contemplative public 0 The poem “The Fall Exists” was inspired by a photograph by Deniz Hotamisligil. The end result seems very dark, but it is in the spirit of Deniz' comments regarding the sourced work, "I believe that what you call a fall may just be the first step that leads us to a whole new positive outcome."<br /><br /><br />The Fall Exists<br /><br />The fall exists as part of life<br />a welcome dip from the climb<br />asking nothing for itself<br />while gravity seeks a result<br /><br />angels cry for the descent<br />without assisting by their wings<br />because they know inner truths<br />a wish granted to the accused<br /><br />reminder of the consequence<br />or perhaps the last request<br />for something less than heights<br />still cursed at the best of times<br /><br />when the less becomes the whole<br />contingent on a life extolled<br />the end result may be the lapse<br />declaring nothing except the end<br /><br />the substitution has been set<br />low for high without regret<br />banking on the impact’s touch<br />to caress away the storm<br /><br />now life has been resolved<br />collision granting more than love<br />the nightmare left to only dream<br />of valleys found within the peace.<br /><br />© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190420.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=920531" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:667230 2016-10-02T02:19:22Z 2016-10-02T02:19:22Z contemplative public 0 A neighbor’s brush fire reminded me of many campfires experienced in past times during this turn of the wheel. The poem “Leaves Fall” is about a special place to my heart, one I will visit soon.<br /><br /><br />Leaves Fall<br /><br />The leaves fall to the ground<br />orange and red in dead glory<br />as the smoke drifts from the fires<br />lit to forestall the coming chill<br /><br />as the dance bears flesh to mind<br />warm by flame both in and out<br />the souls passed observe the rest<br />as all move in rhythm’s hand<br /><br />drums played as single beat<br />pressing veils most see as fixed<br />shimmering with intent’s goal<br />of crossing over for a single night<br /><br />to the Glen the faes return once more<br />invitation to visit familiar ground<br />never far from the sacred grove<br />now flit amongst the dancers there<br /><br />amongst the leaves as they fall<br />with memories found in their repose<br />dancers, drummers, faes, and fires<br />in the face of the coming chill.<br /><br />2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161001.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=667230" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments