The starter's gun shot choas
The frantic flood of harried hoofbeats
Left nature's silence bleeding
Upon the forest floor.
Spilling through the meadow
With flailing arms and jumbled breath
Awkward bodies in jangled motion
Tripping down the hillside.
But somewhere near the water's edge
In shadows of the wood
With purpose-filled hearts and harmonious strides
We distanced ourselves from the rest.
Then we breathed the rays of sunlight
Felt the blood course in our veins
And heard nature echo the single sound
Of footsteps in the forest.
Your foot still treads those wooded paths
My thoughts run through these lines
The race changed, once one of innocence
Now numbers and measures and time.
We are jostled one day into the next
Our time is not our own
The world has knocked us out of sync
Tangled, stumbling, losing balance.
But when I feel the discord,
Seeking isolation from this world,
I reach back in the shadows
Searching for the water's edge.
And there I breathe the sunlight
Feel your blood course in my veins
And hear the single-sounding echo
Of footsteps in the forest.
copyright 2008 t. ewing
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2 comments:
I've always liked this poem. I just reread it a few days ago, as a matter of fact, on the print hanging above our fireplace.
I like the way it's rhythmic but doesn't rhyme; the way it's laid out and the way it sounds, you expect it to rhyme, but it doesn't. And the imagery is awesome.
AJ
<><
So it's a print that hangs above AJ's fireplace and mom-mom's and what me and mom are chopped liver? lol :) just kidding :) I like this one to I always found myself reading it while sitting in mom-mom's living room. I also love the picture that it was on. I believe their is also an article that was done on it by uncle ted right? Back when you two almost got along? I think I remember coming across it in one of the many boxes i helped pack. :)
~Nicole~
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