Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Seawind #1

From beneath the eaves
Of transient waves
I peer into the ageless sky
To hear the young winds sigh;

O you of sorrow,
The sea broke all bones in its body
Only to prostrate before the mountains,
Who cowers, frozen at its peak
For fear of vainglory.

Yet you parade
Blackened clouds in your wake
Its thundering rage
Before you weep
Your blue masquerade.

The wind speaks;
Sad poet, you pen lies
I carry only the sea’s turbulence
I sigh, only your sighs
I borne only your soul’s musk
            I am the husk, of your eloquence.

You do not speak my speak
My howling replies, cold
Upon your unlistening ears
I am but a messenger.

The Poet laments;
How do I
Hear the young winds’ woes
Beneath the wild seas’ throes
If your mountainous silence fills me?

O solemn one o mine,
I have tamed the winds to bear me
upon its back
I have quelled my soul to bear you
upon its seam
I offer you my grandest gesture;
            My wildflower words
            by woe-betide winds.

8th January 2014

It feels a little like defeat, I've to admit. To be here. 
I won't give up just yet though. Just the first one, I hope.

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