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Array ( [sid] => 28402 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Wind [time] => 2003-12-01 19:46:09 [hometext] => Not really poetry so much as a release of thought onto paper [bodytext] => I stand alone in the dusk of evening and watch the world around me change colors. Shadows deepen as the sun slowly gives way to a bright silver moon. I watch the wind dance with the leaves as it tugs at my hair, whispering the forgotten secrets of the past. I am taken back in distant memories that are not mine, and yet are a part of me still. I am me, yet not me, my intelligence, not my body or mind. Time has no definition as I cease to exist. I become as the wind.
Beginning softly I frolic with the new leaves as I watch a small butterfly struggle away from it cocoon. I breathe gently on its tiny perfect wings, helping them dry. I am the breeze it catches as it takes to the air for the first time. I soar with the eagles, toss the ocean waves, and join with others to create things of beauty, catastrophe, and irresistible danger. We meet together, clashing and screaming, tumbling over each other in a dizzy array of emotions. As quickly as we find each other we are lost again.
The wind tugs gently at my hair. I am alone.
[comments] => 4 [counter] => 371 [topic] => 19 [informant] => sol_fire [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => InspirationalPoems )
Wind

Contributed by sol_fire on Monday, 1st December 2003 @ 07:46:09 PM in AEST
Topic: InspirationalPoems



I stand alone in the dusk of evening and watch the world around me change colors. Shadows deepen as the sun slowly gives way to a bright silver moon. I watch the wind dance with the leaves as it tugs at my hair, whispering the forgotten secrets of the past. I am taken back in distant memories that are not mine, and yet are a part of me still. I am me, yet not me, my intelligence, not my body or mind. Time has no definition as I cease to exist. I become as the wind.
Beginning softly I frolic with the new leaves as I watch a small butterfly struggle away from it cocoon. I breathe gently on its tiny perfect wings, helping them dry. I am the breeze it catches as it takes to the air for the first time. I soar with the eagles, toss the ocean waves, and join with others to create things of beauty, catastrophe, and irresistible danger. We meet together, clashing and screaming, tumbling over each other in a dizzy array of emotions. As quickly as we find each other we are lost again.
The wind tugs gently at my hair. I am alone.




Copyright © sol_fire ... [ 2003-12-01 19:46:09]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Wind (User Rating: 1 )
by ShadowDaughter on Monday, 1st December 2003 @ 08:14:53 PM AEST
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Poem or not, I quite liked this. You have a beautiful way with words: "I watch the wind dance with the leaves . . . whispering the forgotten secrets of the past." Impressive.

--Shadow


Re: Wind (User Rating: 1 )
by ToriVeigh on Monday, 1st December 2003 @ 08:31:40 PM AEST
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Great imagination! Are you seeking freedom? That's what wind and flying represent to me and that's the feeling your poem stirred.


Re: Wind (User Rating: 1 )
by RICHARD_CAMPBELL on Monday, 1st December 2003 @ 08:45:01 PM AEST
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HI SOLFIRE,
YOU ARE REALY NEVER ALONE ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT.
I LIKE THIS IT SHOWS THAT YOUR MIND IS TRUELY WORKING.


Re: Wind (User Rating: 1 )
by cryingonmyporch on Friday, 19th December 2003 @ 11:31:53 PM AEST
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Wow. very very nice. Poetry doesn't always rhym or have a rythm, poetry is a thought. Some poets make it as a copycat of others what makes a poem is it comes from within and that it is truely unique.
~Amy




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