Feather fell
down in a dusky lighted room,
with enough
sound to be noticed,
but not
enough to draw attention.
The same manner
in which I’ve been
opening and
closing doors.
Dreams we
make up as kids,
'cause later
we forget how to dream.
Even if they
are taken away from us,
it is
important to create them.
Otherwise
today has no more tomorrow.
All that we
know, we can capture in a glimpse.
Our
expectations are greater,
but they
blindfold us.
The flowers
on the window
and candles
at the door.
A ballet
dancer as a dandelion puff,
bending the
arms as if to speak;
in a storm
that comes and goes
as if with
the waves.
Standing on
a floating feather,
with an
angel weeping at the shoulder.
We haven't
been running,
yet we have
always been racing,
since the
day we were born.
We shed our
skins and call it dust.
Fear finds
the smallest of cracks
and it
permeates through.
Growing
bigger in an anxious mind.
There is
still place to leave a trace.
Curiosity
takes you a step further
and awards
you with undiscovered lands.
Remember the
feeling when your heart
just can’t
take it anymore?
Chasing
eternity through the golden summer fields;
there is
quite enough light to hope,
for two
lovers lost at war.
I remember the feeling... sometimes though I really can't take it anymore! Great Poem
ReplyDeleteEthereal feeling to your poem.
ReplyDeleteI want to hang on to that light at the end. A lot of beautiful lines Natasa!
ReplyDelete"Fear finds the smallest of cracks / and it permeates through." and "Chasing eternity through the golden summer fields" are my favourite.
we have been racing since the day we were born...shedding our skin like dust is such an emotive line for me as well....and two lovers lost at war...there are some really nice undertones in this...like the feather falling, just not loud enough for attention...
ReplyDeleteI was really touched by the part of your poem where you said that it is important to create dreams as children because later we forget how to dream. (Some people do anyway.) I just love the imagination of children, the unhibited dreams and fantasy of childhood. Oh if only we could bottle that & save it for later when we really needed to revisit the dreams and fantasies again. Later on you talk about the cracks that fear manages to find. So true, I think we have to make certain those cracks stay small & that we do not allow fear to overpower us. I enjoyed your write, Nataša.
ReplyDeleteI like the use of the feathers and opening/closing doors as symbolism ~ I hope for those 2 lovers lost in war, to finally and one day, see the light ~
ReplyDeleteYour imagery is really good at painting the visual picture in the reader's mind. I especially liked the meaning in these 3 lines:
ReplyDeleteWe shed our skins and call it dust.
Fear finds the smallest of cracks
and it permeates through.
There was magic in the world when I was little...so I loved this poem and all its texture and meaning. The magic is still there, of course, it just takes a little longer to tap into. Needless to say, I loved this, Nataša.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful piece--especially your close--
ReplyDeletesome of the lines were quite magical. deeply felt and quite intimate.let tomorrow never die.
ReplyDeleteThis was wonderful to read. Wise words from a fellow pilgrim. I relate to the heart that cant take it any more, followed by "chasing eternity through the golden summer fields." Glorious.
ReplyDeleteExceptionally lovely piece - I began to quote lines and realized I was copying nearly each line - strong, wonderful, lyrical, magical mystical writing - wonderful poem :)
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ReplyDeleteGrowing bigger in an anxious mind.......wow........a great poetic experience....
I read this several times and it was just as beautiful as the first. Wow!
ReplyDeletePeace...
ReplyDeleteZQ
I agree...our expectations can indeed blindfold us. Nicely done introspective piece.
ReplyDeleteInteresting the juxtaposition of lovers and war, then further symbolized as all kinds of floating things sustaining impossible weight. Like lovers escaping the harsh reality of circumstance and floating away in denial. But that is so wonderfully romantic that no one could resist.
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