The Ring
I am sitting on the crossroads, facing west.
I have been sitting here for an eternity.
All around me, buildings rose and withered away.
The people, they have run from the sirocco, knowing what it will bring.
They have fled, rather than face your truth.
I am sitting on the crossroads, eyes closed.
I breathe in the scent of your palm leaves, and carob fruit.
I sway with the jingle of ancient civilizations I've long left behind.
I lean forward, with the warmth.
I lean forward, and take flight.
Image source.
West, I fly.
Like an arrow sped from your bow,
I fly.
My eyes pick out shapes and movement,
but I do not stop.
West, I fly.
The wind you summoned flits through my pinion wings.
Warm air lifts me higher.
I will not pause,
I shall not tarry.
Signs of you,
are my only query.
Ever west,
higher still,
I fly.
The sun cannot catch me.
Onward, I go.
West, I turn my eye,
Farther,
this bird of prey,
no matter the weather,
shall fly.
I close my eyes,
gliding into the full redness,
of the horizon's embrace.
Image source.
From the dark depths I rise,
I am seeking,
I am searching,
for a sound,
for a hint of light.
A hollow roar,
as I seek to draw breath,
I surge higher,
breaking the waves.
I have disturbed the boats,
a behemoth of the seas,
a mammoth of life,
I shoulder aside a ship.
I submerge once more,
and from within me echoes a wordless cry,
rattling glass,
shaking moorings,
I am booming,
in waters' vast expanse.
I am blooming,
shaking ocean's cold embrace.
Distance has no meaning,
as memory pulls me north.
I know what I seek;
What it is I've always sought.
North,
this leviathan,
goes forth,
seeking.
Image source.
I breathe in
the scent of rotten leaves,
the aroma of a fresh kill.
Mother was here.
Gnawed bones surround me,
as I take my first steps out of this den.
Newborn, I open my eyes,
to take in winter's first light.
The sun.
The light reflecting off sister-moon.
Your glory, even reflected,
blinds me.
I spring on a south-eastern trail.
I hunt the sun.
I hunt spring and summer both.
A hare bounds forth.
A small life ends.
Bloodied and warmed,
I head towards your season,
I eat the miles,
sinking in freshly-minted snow.
I chase the birds' laughter,
I race a frozen river,
I hunt the shadow of a cloud.
Bloodied,
but still a cub.
East,
I scent your spring,
South,
I stalk your summer.
I grow,
I find life in death.
Low to the earth I go,
into promised yesteryears.
I close my eyes,
my nose scents you still,
this hunter of the tundras,
springs and summers with a will.
Image source.
I rise from my seat,
I raise my eyes to the firmament.
I smile,
for your glory is reflected in the world.
Your wind pushed me,
as the western-heading wing-rider.
Your sound pulled me,
as the northern-bound monster of the seas.
Your scent had drawn me,
as the predator returning home.
Your will has taken me,
three-quarters of a circle.
And I turn around.
There you are.
There you've always been,
behind me,
an efreet and a djinn.
I lower my arms,
the heavens urge me forward.
I open my eyes,
and open them again.
With the desert hunter's eyes I look at you.
I am blinded by your brilliance.
With the whale's mouth I call to you.
I am deafened by your resonance.
With the wolf's nose I scent you.
I am intoxicated by your fragrance.
Blinded by your sight,
I see only you.
Deafened by your sound,
I hear only you.
Choked by your presence,
I feel and breathe only you.
Forever I have stood here.
The stars and sun and moon, wheel around us.
Life and death surround us.
Forever,
civilizations rise and fall,
and their remains ring us.
Forever,
and no more.
Forward,
I step.
To you,
I reach.
To your blinding hair of sun,
to your searing skin of snow,
to your scent of home,
to your sound and din
of kin.
I reach out to you,
I open my eyes,
I open my palm,
to give you,
what lies,
within.
This poem is the third inspired by, dedicated to, and written for @mamadini, shared with everyone else at her kindness. I actually hadn't written any poetry or prose since 2009, but when the muse comes, it comes a-knocking.
- The alliterative piece, She Is Coming with the Clouds was the first, trying to capture the style she favours in her own spoken word creations.
- This love poem, Return to The Garden, was my longest poem to date. And then after I went to sleep after gifting it to the recipient, I was struck by the opening to this very poem, and the next day, poetry demanded of me to write it, which got us to this piece.
Also, thanks to @authorofthings in particular for helping me sand off the piece's rougher parts.
art and flair courtesy of @pegasusphysics
A hunter for treasure has sailed from our shores on a fanciful frigate of might
and set off to find hidden gems of a poetic nature 'neath cover of night.
Just this morning we heard, oe'r the roar of the waves, that a poem to curate's in sight!
Well, this poem in question is yours, so this writ from the shores of the Isle of Write
is announcing deposit of five SBDs in your wallet: we hope that's all right.
Our anthology's filled with the poems of Steemit; black ink on its pages of white:
and if yours is included we're sure of the loudest applause that your words will incite!
We beseech you to navigate now to the Isle, making haste as a bird soars in flight.
As you traverse the ocean you'll see our tall palms; from your vessel, please safely alight.
“@treasurehunter” you'll type to inform us you're here and your ship is all moor'd nice and tight.
Then as soon as we can, we will ping you to answer your questions both mammoth and trite,
and a verification of willingness we will procure with a flourishing rite
saying you will allow us to publish your "pome" in this tome of the Isle of Write!
(Be assured that, as author, you will be retaining your full and complete copyright.)
Follow this treasure map to the Isle of Write!
logo designed and created by @pegasusphysics
First time I'm seeing this missive, and it's certainly made me smile and chuckle.
I'll head over to the Isle, and since I too am a Treasure Hunter, I'll tag myself :D
With the whale's mouth I call to you.
I am deafened by your resonance.
Wow Thunder.... really wonderful, and the above lines stood out with a resonance of their own.
You know, I've mentioned it before, on another piece, but the whale part is the one I was the most uncertain about, and the one most people seemed to have liked best, out of the three animal segments.
Glad to hear the piece spoke to you :)
That line caught my eye, too!
Fantastic poetry @geekorner and (epic is definitely the word)at 158 lines it's the poem that just keeps on giving 😉
But seriously, I love the imegery and the use of poetic devices in this piece. Particularly, the personification of animals to show the journey/feelings of the poet-
Really nice!
<3 Thank you for all the kind words and support Raj!
And hey, it's the poem that kept on making me sweat as I wrote another line and another line :'D
And yeah, somehow I knew I needed the animal imagery. I don't even know where the idea came from, but it just seemed right, you know? Maybe it's when I thought of how I have so much to say, and thus wish to break the piece down into segments, while still making it all feel cohesive. I am not sure how writing one singular piece that does not "transform" midway for me would look like. I'm not nearly good enough for that yet.
And yes, it seems strong and vivid imagery may be one of my stronger suits as a poet :)
This is the greatest gift and it is truly epic!
The immersion is intense and fruitful -- poetic entanglements of woven vessels before the morning light and into the day, before the song of sunrise when all is silent but for a promise, the birth of something new on the horizon.
Yes.
The day is breaking and I hear a sound and smell sweet woods burning, wafting as I drift closer in from Solitarius Isle, from the void I see...
<3
Nothing like a poetic response, especially from you, who keeps dazzling me :)
I still wonder what a sweet wood burning smells like. During Lag Ba'Omer, we just burn any old construction wood around here :3
(you hear an engine rev and horn honk)
MEEP! MEEP!
(the window on the humvee rolls down to reveal a warm smiling face)
"Hello! I'm @shadow3scalpel and with the help of my protege, @chairborne, we are actively assisting veterans, retirees and active servicemen and women here on Steemit. We feel it is our 'duty' to support each other. Any questions or comments you may have, simply respond to this comment, thank you!"
(the window rolls up and the engine roars as it drives to the next person on the list)
Comment by @killerwhale. This is a opt-in bot.
wow!
I love reading the lines other readers pick out as their favorites. i spotted several but landed on these as my #1 favorite:
To your blinding hair of sun,
to your searing skin of snow,
to your scent of home,
to your sound and din
of kin.
A love poem - lucky the lover who hears such words!
I have to say Carol, that one of the best bits of writing this piece have been is seeing which lines spoke to different people. I am surprised the wolf got as little love as it did, and that the whale was so resounding a success.
But yeah, the final segment, when the speaker finally faces Her? That probably has my favourite lines altogether. The stanza you picked is also the culmination of quite a bit of the imagery and seeking and longing in prior segments, such as what blinded the wolf, the thing the whale cried for, and what we all long for.
And as to the "lucky one", I feel to be lucky to have been inspired to write this <3
I Love the Wolf
It's like a separate poem all together.
I'm as wolf-obsessed as I am lion-obsessed.
this is truly epic - a poem that requires many readings, and every time, something will catch our eye in a new way.
Dear @geekorner,
While sipping a strong cup of coffee I was taken on a global journey of the senses through your lines. The Western sun is tough for me to resist, and so I was hooked at the outset. I experienced a minor moment of confusion when I found myself suddenly under the sea, yet that state of pondering provided anticipation (with the support of photographic imagery) for future transitions. This stanza satisfied 2 questions: Will there be a southern excursion? What is the title symbolism?
Your will has taken me,
three-quarters of a circle.
And I turn around.
Congratulations on your poetic accomplishment!
Thank you! And well, the wolf went south-east. Though technically when I turn around I should be facing east, but I'm going to claim poetic freedom here :P
I'm glad you liked it! I added the images to break things up, but some of the early readers did convey a bit of confusion over the sudden transformation at the end of the second segment, before the rebirth as the whale.
As for the title, it has more significance in the piece, but rather than point it out, I'll let you find it on your own. And in case you think you've found it, know it has at least two more points of significance.
Thank you for dropping by, and for the kind words.
Oh yes, I understand there are multiple implications for the Ring with the 3/4 circle being my first aha.
I love the sense of movement and hope in this piece, especially these lines:
Initially, I was intimidated by the length (that's what she said?), but found that the sense of journey kept it moving. Well done, poet warrior!
I will admit. I was intimidated by the length as well. I kept writing, and writing, and writing, and it didn't end. I guess I was going for eternity both within and without the piece, heh. I am used to writing extremely long pieces of non-fiction, as in, over 3k words on a movie, or on a single anime episode, or philosophy. But this... this was harder than most such things. Probably also because I'm less used to it.
I do hope people will give it a try, in spite of the length. I usually don't like images and such breaking the reading, but I know it helps make such things appear to flow better.
And thank you, fellow Seeker of Truth (Thank you Hearthstone :P).
This was a bit of a page turner. For n epic, this poem was very easy to read. I liked the intermittent use of rhyme and felt that it added to the metaphor of flight and movement. It's a good write. Congratulations on the selection. Well deserved.
Thank you very much for this comment, Moe. I know you have a hard time with longer pieces, so this means a lot coming from you in particular.
I think part of it is that those who write longer pieces tend to go not just for longer lines, but also longer sentences. A paragraph-long sentence is hard to read, and doubly so when split along multiple lines and using much imagery. Whereas this piece is given mostly to shorter lines.
And thank you for the well wishes and compliments :)
Huzzah! The Isle of Write cannot pass on this chance to Resteem yet another member's incredibly deserving and well-rewarded post. So happy for you, and happy for us to have your talents and kindness at the Isle.
Congratulations!
Thank you for the continued support :)