and
This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is wealth.
L is for Longing
In my arms
when stars were white,
An old man studied magic in a flower.
A day we had
in sweet affluence of bells and song,
I held color in the sky.
Alive in my garden
strung by rare roots,
The world we painted in human flesh.
The dreams were green
fertile danced,
At sunrise, the trees were covered in hoarfrost.
A crack in the lines where another world begins.
This one ends.
Through the hole
where sap and spirit are withheld,
The old man stops.
The summer is short
the end is pale and spoiled,
The old man starves.
Behind the iron gate
mounds of blood pour out,
The old man crawls.
In my hand
where the flower stands,
Silver bells are still ringing.
"To die for beauty, than live for bread." -Emerson
*photo-Lane of Poplars at Sunset, Van Gogh.
What a sad poem. You've killed the protagonist!
ReplyDeletehttp://francene-wordstitcher.blogspot.com
The sad thing about life is that all that we learn on our journey has been with the help of others and that richness in our lives comes at the cost of their eventual demise. Well that is how I read it!
ReplyDeletea beautiful yet tragic poem.
ReplyDeleteNutschell
www.thewritingnut.com
Happy A-Zing!
Although this poem is about longing..and loss..there is so much alive..visually..in sound..in thought and colour..sad and yet it is a cycle we all must take..Jae
ReplyDeletebeautiful.
ReplyDeleteSad but beautifully written ..I loved every line you wrote....thanks.
ReplyDeletein my hand - silver bells are ringing, like the bells during christmas
ReplyDeletewealth of laughter senryu