i stand beneath-
thy broken arms
which once stretched so lovingly
towards thy father sun.
thy broken branches now do rest-
upon the ground, midst leaves and stones
for thy sister storm came by
and took thine arms and thy branches-
stole thy leaves away
but tis no trouble, i hear thou utter-
for there is always another year to grow.
Music is so ancient.
It's so odd to think that
The sweet lilting of the flute,
Played through my speakers, read from a CD-
Could be so close to the sound of reed pipes!-
Played by children dancing in the forest.
Landslide
A song, by Fleetwood Mac.
Sung by Stevie Nicks.
The kind of song that evokes such nostalgia in me,
A kind of gentle pain for the memories of the past,
And a desire to embrace my future.
I long to travel:
Wanderlust tugs at my soul.
Maine screams my name,
The ocean calls for its siren far away.
Salem calls me,
Whispering tales of young girls lost to time.
Comments
i love this poem, and all of the imagery! :)
Aww thanks!
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