Monday, May 30, 2011

draped


the simple equations
that i've been offered
while passing through my life
have been too formulaic for my liking

but they taste so sweet
they feel so soft
and i have felt at times
that i could easily settle back into them

but for now,
being slowly drawn in thin-veined lines
i'll stop for a while
and lie draped across
a fallen branch

and when i have danced
my subtleties to the wind of this place

i'll fall back to the earth
and begin the slow return
my slow leaving
of this place

let me see the beckoning

feel the sighs of arrival

even as i learn the next complexity
in all its fullness

21 comments:

Kay said...

wow..that photo is stunning steven!..and of course the words as ever beautiful..x

The Weaver of Grass said...

Your philosophy of life is to be admired steven.
That photograph captures it too.

steven said...

kay thankyou. steven

steven said...

hello weaver, i think i do have a philosophy of life, i'm not sure i could put it entirely into words because it is constantly moving! thankyou. steven

Titus said...

Wow! This:
'and when i have danced
my subtleties'
stunning.

steven said...

titus - to be truthful, sometimes those subtleties are not entirely subtle! steven

Dulce said...

Please do not leave the place without a good bye. But life is anew every second...
great poem Steven
Thanks
D.

hope said...

I like how you recognize the voice of all living things.

I have to admit thinking, "I wonder if leaves yell for joy as they dance through the air, not worried about the landing?" ;)

Suze said...

I was moving from blog to blog and when I clicked on your page, the image in the header had an incredibly stilling effect. And I have recently become a zealous consumer of Rumi's verse.

I love the image of the leaf draped on a branch. I can feel the humectant quality in the atmosphere. Thank you for a beautiful experience.

ellen abbott said...

every time I think you cannot top your header picture, you do. beautiful.

Liza Ursu said...

let me see the beckoning
feel the sighs of arrival

such beautiful words you have offered,
thank you steven.

steven said...

dulce i imagine my goodbyes will be written well before i actually fly away! steven

steven said...

hope it's as if their voices are right there singing or whispering or rustling and i like to tell the little stories of the seemingly insignificant because really the dead leaf is as significant as the pulsar. steven

steven said...

suze when i saw those little petals folded so carefully behind their sister leaves i was drawn to feel a shyness, a reluctance that made sense to me as i think so much of the natural world wishes to remain in the same whole space everything else occupies and not to be drawn closer to the centre of attention or observation. thankyou for your kind comment. steven

steven said...

ellen thankyou. steven

steven said...

liza it's pure pleasure to have the luxury of introspection and to share my sense of the place i have in this world. thanks for sharing your enjoyment here. steven

Lilith said...

It feels so sad but not in a bad way, pensive I'm thinking. The knowledge that life is circular and that we all end up where we began.

Does that make any sense?

steven said...

lilith - there's the possibility of a quality of resignation depending on how you frame the cycle of return. my own sense of how it retains its positivity is contained in the final line - "as i learn the next complexity in all its fullness". i hope that helps. steven

Lizzy Frizzfrock said...

Such complex philosophy stated so simply. It is a pleasure to read your poetry.

" ...and when i have danced... " and continuing to the end of the poem is a brilliant use of words. Such peace.

Lilith said...

It's funny. When I first read your response I read regeneration, not resignation and I thought, yes, that's it. Then I reread it. I'm sticking with my regeneration. That's what your poem reminds me of:)

Jo said...

This contains such a quiet and peaceful, yet powerful stillness within.

Beautifully expressed in both word and image, Steven.

Thank you.