© Steve King
All rights reserved
I would not profane
the pageant of this dawning wood
with any small reflection
that a man might bring.
Yet how else may I know?
Light rises,
autochthonous, it seems;
this world displays itself in full always,
while I am left to trace faint shadows
in the afterglow.
(The last of the year
for me, to be shared on Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads. Happy New Year, all!!!)
http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/
I think this is just beautiful poetry. It has a classic style, something of the Romantics contemplating nature and self in juxtaposition. The pivotal question is one I'm sure we all ask ourselves, which makes this universal in theme.
ReplyDeletePerfect sense of hush and space, where the soul walks with itself and its chosen companions, in this case the native inhabitants of silence and sunrise. Happy New Year in return, Steve.
ReplyDeleteI feel here the respect to majesty of nature! ~ Happy New Year!
ReplyDeleteReally beautiful - your poem and the comments above. A perfect poem to end the year and begin a new!
ReplyDeleteA lovely little piece, Steve. As I read it I feel transported into a tranquil woodland refuge. A perfect place to reflect on the old and ring in the new. All the best in the new year to you and yours, my friend!
ReplyDeleteYou combine skill, respect for language's specificity and an admiration of nature to create a poem that could be a classic. REALLY well done, Steve. Thank you for sharing your talent.
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This touched my soul and gave me such peace. Beautiful poem.
ReplyDeleteHey Steve- moving along here -- the parts about the truth and the night are very beautiful. k.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much. I think you're about the busiest blogger this week.
DeleteSteve K.