 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 11:41:57 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 90355
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Fire For You
[time] => 2005-04-08 17:41:42
[hometext] => dedicated to my lover *smiles*
[bodytext] => On this, the shortest day of the year, I have journeyed to the Great Plains to build a fire for you. The night air is cold like a cellar cut from ancient stones. But I found some wood among the deserted plains buried under the grasses and dirt, hidden away like leaves that had become the soil. After I cleaned the wood by hand -- its dirt beneath my nails and the fabric of my cloth I sent a flame combusted by the mere thought of you. And the wood became fire. There were hermit stars that gathered overhead to keep me company. Your spirit was there as well amidst the fire's flames. We laughed at the deep meaning of the sky and its spacious ways. Marveling at the flat mirror of the plain that sends so little skyward, like the hearts of children denied a certain kind of love. You played with spirits when you were young among these fields. You didn't know their names then. I was one. Even without a name, or body, I watched your gaze, unrelenting to the things that beat between the two mirrors of the sky and plain. I believe it was here also that you learned to speak with God. Not in so many words as you're now accustomed, but I'm certain that God listened to your life and gathered around your fire for warmth and meaning. In the deserted plains he found you set apart from all things missing. Dear spirit, I have held this vigil for so long, tending fires whose purpose I have forgotten. I think warmth was one. Perhaps light was another. Perhaps hope was the strongest of these. If ever I find you around my fire, built by hands that know your final skin, between the sheets of the sky and plain, I will remember its purpose. In barren fields that have long been deserted by the hand of man I will remember. In the deepest eye of you I will remember. In the longest night of you I will remember. On this, the shortest day of the year, I have journeyed to the Great Plains to build a fire for you. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 178 [topic] => 2 [informant] => badgurlinoz [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 9 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LovePoetry )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com