The Old Earth by hanevi
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Description
The ambiences of the visual and the poem seem to be at variance, but that's because they're intended to be a link between a particular state of feeling and a heartcry.
Is this an autobiography, or a metaphor, or a prayer?
Well... :)
Come rain-laden Cloud,
Wrap me in your
Wind-scented shroud,
Let the living drops
Touch my earthen lips
With the kiss of life,
When the sun hangs heavy
Like a clot of blood
In the burning sky.
Awake the seed in me
To sprout and blossom,
Let the parched field rejoice
In coolness soaking,
Through and down,
To longing life awaiting.
Clad me once again
In cloaks of many-hued green,
In new-born restoration,
In gladness of new birth.
Comments (4)
Shadowmonkey
The words are in my mind so full of hope. I know where you were when this was written, in the sense that I to have been there. And in many ways am there now. ;0)
Wolfspirit
You have asked, "Is this an autobiography, or a metaphor, or a prayer?" A smooth read, excellent and I would say all of the above.
Auzifairy
The imagery here is so vivid... It brings to mind lost memories from a realm of shattered dreams and dwindling hope. As to your question, it seems to be a supplication, a passionate cry to a savior... Excellent! :)
meico
It seems it is a form of supplication to yourself ... and why not, if it's done well as this is? Mike