Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Song of the Lotus

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In the silence of the heart
grows the tender white lotus blossom
that is your life.

Water it gently with your tears.
Bathe it in the sunlight of your hopes
and the soft moonlight of your dreams.

Listen! for the trees are sighing,
holding out their arms  as you approach,
hoping you will truly see them
at least one time
before you die,

will let them hold you gently
as you cry.

Behind your sleeping eyes
lies the Watcher In the Woods,
the one who nudges you this way and that,
who sighs wearily, when you do not 

heed her call,
this One who knows you best of all,

who has picked you up after every fall.

As we draw closer to the end of things,
our spirit slows, our voices gentle,
we are not nearly as certain as we once 

so vociferously were.
It is time for softness now,
and reflection,
for looking back and for remembering.

We need much silence now,
a silence of the heart
weary from making its own way.
We speak more softly, and less often,
the young won't listen anyway.
They have to find 

their own befuddled way,
their own steep price 
in pain to pay.

Our song now is a murmuring brook
trickling over some knotted roots;
we are content to meander whimsically
through this golden autumn-before-winter,
letting go like the last withered leaf
on the gnarled old maple,
twirling dreamily down
to the mossy bank,

where we sit for a spell,
lulled by the water's flow.
So soft, its voice, as soft 

as the somnolent song of our lives
the last notes sounding, 

holding death at bay,
before they gently, softly, finally
fade away. 


for Rosemary's wonderful prompt at Poets United's Midweek Motif, which posts tomorrow morning: Let Your Song Be Delicate, based on the poem by John Shaw Neilson.

33 comments:

  1. A lovely response ~ I specially like Watcher of the Woods and the voice so soft as last notes sounding, holding death at bay ~ The season autumn is a time of reflection for me about the fullness of life, before winter & death finally arrives ~

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  2. ...holding death at bay...You said what I wanted to. Beautiful.

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  3. This is really beautiful, Sherry... Yes, silence becomes something to appreciate rather than to fear! And those soft voices at the end one would hope to be very comforting!

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  4. Ah! Letting go to meander stress-free sounds so restful. I especially love the trees "holding out their arms," the Watcher in the Woods "Behind your sleeping eyes":
    "this One who knows you best of all,
    who has picked you up after every fall."
    And:
    "We speak more softly, and less often,
    the young won't listen anyway.
    They have to find
    their own befuddled way ..."
    Oh yes, we have earned the rest and sweetness of time.

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  5. the watcher in the woods is haunting



    ALOHA
    ComfortSpiral
    =^..^=

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  6. ah...slowly, whimsically flowing towards silence and Beauty...a delicate song indeed Sherry...

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  7. This is a beautiful picture of autumn and aging.. there is beauty in the autumn stream, in the tired sunshine kissing leaves.. and I so wish to see a lotus, but up here we have to do with water-lilies..

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  8. I like how you take both your hopes and tears,
    as they both def feed the lotus. I wish we could learn some of the same wisdom we glean later in life, when we are much younger. Ha.

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  9. This is a truly beautiful poem Sherry. The watcher of the woods needs some helpers over here!

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  10. Beautiful, Sherry, a paean to delicacy, culminating in that wonderful final verse.

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  11. There is a great lullaby in this and also a peak and flow of thought and knowing - stillness, silence and softness mean everything - particularly as we get older..a beautiful poem Sherry

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  12. "As we draw closer to the end of things,
    our spirit slows, our voices gentle"

    Those lines hold a serene kind of truth. As time adds pretty stones to my birthdays wall, I find that the things I believed of extreme importance just aren't. I feel the gentling...

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  13. a murmuring brook trickling over some knotted roots... meandering... that is a beautiful description of the autumn of one's life...

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  14. Listen! for the trees are sighing,
    holding out their arms as you approach,
    hoping you will truly see them
    at least one time

    Such beautiful lines :D profound write.

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

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  15. A beautiful poem. Can be read again and again :)

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  16. We need much silence now,
    a silence of the heart
    weary from making its own way...

    This rings very true, Sherry. What a beautiful poem.

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  17. A delicate poem have you woven today Sherry. I see the brook as it at last laps against the shore in a final trickle..

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  18. I like the journey captured, the softening curve indeed a likely path

    Thanks for dropping in to read mine

    Much love...

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  19. I like the gentleness of this, but most of all the wisdom it holds. Not everyone who ages gets this. You certainly have used life as your school and it shows. Lovely, beautiful writing here Sherry.

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  20. The watcher of the woods and the murmuring brook are just magical, perfect. The voice of this poem reflects that murmuring too. Beautiful poem.

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  21. Bravo, Sherry! Your offering is filled with magic and reminds me how glorious this flower truly is~ Wonderful!

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  22. Song of the Lotus, your opening stanza is so beautiful I found myself wanting to drift into the words. The journey leads us to many places from the trees to the brooks and if we just embrace each moment we will have lived a good life I think.

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  23. Peace and serenity captured in the twirling leaf and the soft voice of the stream.Beautiful images.

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  24. To truly see and cry into the bark arms of tree...sigh...such delicate truth and beauty throughout, Sherry. Thank you for your seeing poetic heart. ♥

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  25. The fourth stanza is awesome and the ending the way I hope it will be.

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  26. So gorgeous:
    "Listen! for the trees are sighing,
    holding out their arms"

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  27. We speak more softly, and less often,
    the young won't listen anyway.
    They have to find
    their own befuddled way,

    The bane of parents who are frustrated by the negative attitude of their children. Parents would have wanted them not to be befuddled. Very true Sherry!

    Hank

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  28. This drew me in from the very first stanza! Lovely! I especially liked,
    "Our song now is a murmuring brook
    trickling over some knotted roots"

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  29. This is a delicate and beautiful poem, Sherry. I enjoyed reading it very much.

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I so appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
Thank you so much. I will be over to see you soon!