Thursday, February 21, 2008

Entry #10

The Beckoning Spring
by Geraldine Hartman

The solitude and stillness, at once comforting and disconcerting.

Hints of a breeze.

Thoughts engaging, surfacing memories.

The past, plainly in view and on display.

The chill to the bark and bone.

Reality, brought back.

To the forefront.

Branches of the mind.

Whispering winds.

Harbingers of haunted dreams.

Times, places, faces.

Best forgotten, never quite complete.

Or discarded.

To be alone in this moment.

To seal it, wrap it carefully in a delicate leaf of black lace.

A tear runs down a waiting cheek.

Slips silently to the earth.

Returning to the bark and the branches.

The leaves, still to come.

Yesterday becomes today.

Promises of tomorrow, perhaps.

Renewed hope and letting go.

Life’s lessons, from the tree.

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Anonymous said...

Geraldine, I'm so glad you joined in! This is a lovely piece of poetry - very ethereal.

paisley said...

i guess i never really realized how very much the imagery of a tree relates to our lives... this was very beautiful...

DBA Lehane said...

I must confess I'm not the biggest fan of poetry but this one managed to hold my interest to the end without me, instead, contemplating my belly button fluff half way through! :)

Beth said...

Sadly, I do not love poetry as well, but like the above comment, I too had my interest held by this one.

Chris Eldin said...

The leaves, still to come.

Yesterday becomes today.

Were my favorite two lines, but I enjoyed the entire poem!

Missy said...

To be alone in this moment.

To seal it, wrap it carefully in a delicate leaf of black lace.

This perfectly captures mourning in such a beautiful way.

pattinase (abbott) said...

Lovely precursor to spring.

Geraldine said...

Thank you all for this encouraging feedback.

I loved Jason's choice of photos and this was my way of expressing what it brought to mind.


Sarah Hina said...

I really enjoyed this more meditative take, Geraldine. And how you so successfully collapsed time and thought.

Very beautifully wrought poem. I read it several times.

Unknown said...

A lovely piece of poetry.
I particularly liked these lines:

"Whispering winds.

Harbingers of haunted dreams."

Beautiful and captivating.

BernardL said...

I read it twice.

SzélsőFa said...

A nice poetic take on a beautiful photo.
I see the movements of a branch represented by the lentgh of lines an selection of words, too.

PJD said...

Like BernardL, I read it twice. The disjointedness of the way you've presented the various images has its own impact on the feeling of this.

For those who say "I don't like poetry," I reply, "Perhaps you've not met the right kinds of poems."

Anonymous said...

I'd like to echo Absolute Vanilla's comment - I like how you've played with language in those lines using assonance and alliteration. Beautiful indeed!

Geraldine said...

Thanks again for the (additional) thoughtful comments re: my poem The Beckoning Spring.

It's been a real pleasure to read all your entries.

Thanks also to Jason for hosting this contest.


Bernita said...

"branches of the mind"
- I so like that.

Gnewvegan said...

So beautifully written.. I enjoy reading poetry and your portrayal of the picture was musically written.

Dottie Camptown said...

It also inspired me to think of music. Lovely.

Anonymous said...

Really excellent poem. You exquisitely captured the essence of nostalgia. High marks!

Geraldine said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Geraldine said...

Ooops...typo on that last one!

Thanks again to everyone who commented on my poem. Your thoughts on The Beckoning Spring were so encouraging and interesting to read. I also enjoyed reading all the entries. Some really wonderful writers on this list.

Jason: Thank you so much for the 'high marks' and positive feedback. You are to be congratulated for posting such an engaging contest. I will be reading your blog for many moons to come!!!


Aine said...

"Yesterday becomes today. Promises of tomorrow, perhaps." I love experiencing such moments. Poetry is such a treasure.

It's a gift that so many readers find meaning in different lines of your poem.

Geraldine said...

Thanks Aine, I totally agree. It is a gift indeed!