This being human is a walk
through an old growth forest,
head tipped back, gazing at
the reaching boughs. It is
a slow stroll along a sandy beach
stretching to forever at twilight,
the great song of the rolling waves
lulling one into peace.
This being human is a long look back
at years shimmering in the golden haze
of reverie; the recognition that,
back then, we did not comprehend
the magical time we were living through:
Elton and the Beatles turning
on the turntable, as our heroes fell,
one by one, to the bullets' arc;
as we gave peace a chance, then gave up
as our last hero fell on a New York sidewalk.
This being human is a revolving door.
Some characters in our play
come to stay; others visit
more than once, then push themselves
out and away.
In the end being human is accepting
that the race has been run;
we have learned - or not - the lessons
that we came here to learn.
We sit, nodding gently,
in deck chairs in the sun.
What shines the brightest
is all that happened when
we'd only just begun,
and all our songs were still waiting
to be sung.
for the prompt at dVerse, which struck a chord: to use This being human as a starting point for your poem.
I really like this. <3
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely way to tell about a life's adventure... especially love those deck-chairs in the end. Great to see you here.
ReplyDeleteAh, Sherry, we both still have songs to be sung! Lovely write.
ReplyDeleteVery good pome Sherry. We come to the end with songs still yet to be sung! Well done.
ReplyDeleteYou're right. We didn't comprehend what good times we were living through. I guess people seldom do until much later.
ReplyDeleteI do not know what to say about this piece other than that it is so utterly true and captured beautifully in figurative imagery. I was especially captivated with these lines and agreed with them:
ReplyDelete"This being human is a revolving door.
Some characters in our play
come to stay; others visit
more than once, then push themselves
out and away."
I think this says it all, really. Brilliant work especially in the art of reminiscing the times we've been through, missing them as they were, and not realizing that when they passed they were truly the good times. It is hard to pin-point it in the moment but hindsight is always 20/20.
Since you're using songs, let me quote The Greatful Dead: what a long strange trip it's been. Better than any novel. The dark times make the bright spots that much better. Glad to see you here, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteThis is so beautiful Suzanne, you have captured the music of a lost era. All those carriers of hopeful messages shot down in their prime. No wonder my generation was given over to mindless commercialism and looking the other way.
ReplyDeleteI’m so happy that you joined us, Sherry, and shared this poem. I’m with you all the way, walking through the forest and on the beach. We will never know how animals view the landscapes we have been blessed with, or whether they compose poetry in their minds, or even look back at memories, but we have the gift of words and should not be afraid to use it to praise our unique, beautiful planet, to share our thoughts and memories. I love the deck chairs at the end – I’m already thinking about mine!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully composed. The 2nd stanza really got my attention, as my turntable was similar, and I acutely remember that October afternoon in NYC.
ReplyDeleteWow! Love this extended metaphor full of wisdom and nostalgia, especially the last stanza--makes me think of the song "Those Were the Days." I'm so glad I stopped by to read your inspired poem!
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed this Sherry! We need to appreciate all the moments in our journey since I do believe they are all "lessons that we came here to learn." 💝
ReplyDeleteLife is all this and more Sherry, and we are blessed if we pay mindful attention as we go.
ReplyDeleteVery candid... it's never over at the end.
ReplyDeleteSherry you have captured so much in your words. This being human is so much more than we realize. I especially loved the ending of this poem.
ReplyDeleteYou are a wonderful human so happy our paths crossed.
Sherry, this is stunning from beginning to end. Here's a short piece I love,
ReplyDelete"This being human is a long look back
at years shimmering in the golden haze
of reverie; the recognition that,
back then, we did not comprehend
the magical time we were living through: . . ."