The owl flies like a fishing lure into the air to lightly land In reverie. Catches the drift of winds of time often returns no wasted effort for clutches prey to feed the birds empty gut feelings so full that finds a home is where it roosts. A wise owl knows when to stay or go.
I really like the poem but I also enjoyed something about the opening. I felt like it was about to become one of those prefaces they use to write for poetry books like Wordsworth did.
It could be. Some thoughts didn’t make it to the poem—the owl and the child crave a poem of their own or maybe a preface like the one you’re talking about.
I’m so tired after this long day, so justice cannot be fairly dealt, and who am I to deal in judgements anyway, but thanks for reminding me once more, that we meek sailors are all navigating in the same storm, so that I can feel the coming dawn
I'm happy you gave this one another chance! It's fascinating through and through. So many different kinds of abstract sentiments captured within each stanza. That last line is amazing: "a book of sand" is so simple and yet says everything that's needed.
As you did, this morning I rise and I will walk, I am tired of this week, these present days that give me no peace. My ache is not for the future but for the past… for that hope you write of like a lullaby just out of reach… like « a book of sand »
How on earth did you manage this in the heat I don't know. "I won’t be mad on time’s departure
for it’s a lie, he never left, he stayed alert" is my favourite stanza. So full of hope in the imagery you've painted. A walk taking us down thoughts around existing and then moving on to another realm... and your dad... That's what I'm getting from this beautiful poem.
Thank you dear Pilgrim for the restack and your comment. I am off the grid, so I apologise for my late reply :) I am leaving my phone off most of the day and enjoying the sea. That's the only way to deal with the heat 😍
So glad you didn't drown in a puddle of hot soupiness but decided to post this poem. I still go 'home home' to visit Dad.
Bitter sweet those visits, aren't they?
For sure. I want to be a kid again when I visit home and be minded and protected.
We all do, despite our adult pride.
Reality Nature Infinity. You nailed my sentiments perfectly.
At your service :)
The owl flies like a fishing lure into the air to lightly land In reverie. Catches the drift of winds of time often returns no wasted effort for clutches prey to feed the birds empty gut feelings so full that finds a home is where it roosts. A wise owl knows when to stay or go.
I wanna hug you for this, Richard. Thank you!
I really like the poem but I also enjoyed something about the opening. I felt like it was about to become one of those prefaces they use to write for poetry books like Wordsworth did.
It could be. Some thoughts didn’t make it to the poem—the owl and the child crave a poem of their own or maybe a preface like the one you’re talking about.
Thank you!!!
...I wish to ...I wish to. Maybe this will my answer in the end. maybe I'll never get to have an answer.
What's certain-it's so close. Too close
Thank you so much, Fotini
Is there an answer for any of this?
All I know is that you are too far. And yet...
🖤
I’m so tired after this long day, so justice cannot be fairly dealt, and who am I to deal in judgements anyway, but thanks for reminding me once more, that we meek sailors are all navigating in the same storm, so that I can feel the coming dawn
We sailors can rant and rave. Sometimes it is imperative to.
Hard to wind the film back into the camera, isn’t it?
It’s an old camera :)
Beautiful Fotini. That early rise was exactly what you needed!
I am willing myself to make it a daily habit :)
Suuuuch fantastic rhythm and fervor in this poem.. thanks so much for digging it up. It's great!
Thank you sooooo much, David!
I'm happy you gave this one another chance! It's fascinating through and through. So many different kinds of abstract sentiments captured within each stanza. That last line is amazing: "a book of sand" is so simple and yet says everything that's needed.
“The Book of Sand” is one of Borges’ short stories. He is always on my mind, can’t help it :)
As you did, this morning I rise and I will walk, I am tired of this week, these present days that give me no peace. My ache is not for the future but for the past… for that hope you write of like a lullaby just out of reach… like « a book of sand »
Beautiful dear Fotini - from the first word.
Thank you, Susie 💛
I hope your walks will be a soothing balm for your aches.
Love this one Fotini, it really resonates with me 🌸🖤🌸
Thank you, my dear Amanda 💛
Oh, beautiful.
Thank you, Margaret 🙏 💛
So happy you decided to share this poem, Fotini! It’s wonderful. So many good lines. So much feeling and contemplation. I really enjoyed this one. :)
Thank you so much, Michael!
How on earth did you manage this in the heat I don't know. "I won’t be mad on time’s departure
for it’s a lie, he never left, he stayed alert" is my favourite stanza. So full of hope in the imagery you've painted. A walk taking us down thoughts around existing and then moving on to another realm... and your dad... That's what I'm getting from this beautiful poem.
Thank you dear Pilgrim for the restack and your comment. I am off the grid, so I apologise for my late reply :) I am leaving my phone off most of the day and enjoying the sea. That's the only way to deal with the heat 😍
Enjoy!