But the message is very clear, and I like this poem a lot. I give it a 9/10.

Good luck on future endeavors,
Naman

Thank you.

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So, dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

What a nice blog you have created! I really enjoyed this post. It is so nicely written. I’ll keep coming back to see what else you write

An image that is imprinted in the mind for sure. I feel the absence and disappointment – very nicely done!

A sweet image of a little boy….

“through the arch of our lives,
spilling his narrative
of light across what was
an endless stormy night.”

Again, I loved the end lines of your poem, and I think it completes what you are trying to convey. Children see light instead of darkness, and it is only as we grow older than we begin to see more dark. But I think we should be like this little boy in a way, and see the light instead of the dark. There are always sparkles even in the pitch black.

Thanks for sharing this reminder of a poem.

Peace.

Stunning last lines! The very last line really sticks and matters the most for the entire poem.
I definitely felt the meteorite affect of the words, and that last line will be following me for a long time.

“standing and spotting a light
onto the land, then the rocks,
then her hull.

He can adore her only
in passing, with a harsh glow,
then turning onto the next”

These lines especially captured my attention and carry the poem to great heights. One of my favorites of your poems so far. Keep writing

Thanks for the great comment you left on my Age of Jahiliyah blog. Glad you moved over to WordPress; it looks much better here – more spacious, great visual appeal and more organized.

This was a good poem, but I especially liked these lines:

“The sun, who has always loved,
has always burned, the young sun
who today rose with lofty
intent, to be brilliant. Sun,
in pajamas with patterns
stitched on the front, sun who woke
to an overcast morning,
…………a front
……………….rolled in over night
on a gust, yawning behind
a thick grey blanket,…

so the sun
……………….may come to dry
out our sopped earth. We invent
machinery, pray, retreat
to the tropics. But the sun
feels none of it. He burns,
a sleeping form at midnight,
a cool breathing that heals.”

Very nicely expressed and a nice image of the sun. Excellent descriptions throughout and you really give a new ‘light’ to the sun that greets us tirelessly every day. You made the poem interesting to read.

I’ll be checking back in the future.

Best wishes to you in your poetry writing