Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Tryst with destiny

An incessant, deathless bridge, writing,
sculpturing stories.
Some forbidden paths, some thirsty streams,
Some half grown spring, some winter dreams.

A mild thread weaving me,
twining us, on the canvas, a myriad.   
Question it, for it embraced the answers,
deep and hollow,
some jaded reflections and many divine promises.
The marbled ignorance can’t fade its music
No dark can seduce its ravings
Fall down in the lap
Indulge in the fountain and flow
Let go.

When you meet, meet in the eyes
Incense the time and run your scent, see

It moulds the tale
It heals the pain

Slithering on the wry, homage to fearless,
erasing velvet lies, drying wrath vines.
Sorrows escaped out, vanished
Let rise.

14 comments:

Pat Hatt said...

Really liked the "meet in the eyes" line, very vivid images you create in this one.

wolfsrosebud said...

Love how you wove the seasons with writing. Fresh and enjoyable.

C Rose said...

"When you meet, meet in the eyes
Incense the time and run your scent"

Really loved this couplet. The overall imagery of the piece is wonderful, great write! ~Rose

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

Some forbidden paths, some thirsty streams,
Some half grown spring, some winter dreams.


Beautiful.

And the lines on meeting in the eye and healing, pure. :)

Beautiful.

Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete

Jinksy said...

It moulds the tale
It heels the pain

That's love for you...

Jinksy said...

Second thoughts, did you mean it 'heals' the pain and makes it better, or stamps its high 'heels' to make it worse?
Moot point...

Monika said...

Thanks Jinsky, and I am sorry it was heal only, typing mistake :P Sometimes you commit such a stupidity, how you forget such a simple thing, that in the end, you can only laugh.

hedgewitch said...

I love the way this wanders along, questioning and answering, serene and full of that peace a writer only gets from writing something out that has pushed against the subconscious and made a blister--ah the relief. ;-)

Claudia said...

this is written with such a tender voice..beautiful

Andy said...

Love has that effect.

Penned beautifully.

dustus said...

Your poem took it to a deep, dark, hollow place to then emerge in a flow that seems to let go.
"Fall down in the lap
Indulge in the fountain and flow
Let go."
Like that very much. Excellent work.

Henry Clemmons said...

Let rise indeed. You write great lines and always love your words, each one jolts an emotion or vision or memory. Great title too. Very impressive and inspiratinal.

Paige said...

Haunting! The sort of catalog of images at the end (or maybe of ideas?) changes the pace and really excites things, making the end positively mouth-watering.
Wonderful :)

violet said...

These lines are so lovely and musical:

"Some forbidden paths, some thirsty streams,
Some half grown spring, some winter dreams."

Enjoyed the read.