"Mikään Ei Kuivu Kyyneltä Nopeammin."

"Mikään ei kuivu kyyneltä nopeammin."
- Nothing dries sooner than a tear.

"I remember.

I remember, the sweet honey scent of the redwood trees.
Yet, I cannot recall their faces.

I remember, the songs of the forest, the moon's lullaby.
Yet, I cannot recall their dance.

I remember, the prairie of stars adorning the darkness.
Yet, I cannot recall their names."

I was birthed in Rovaniemi, Finland though, my parentage is long forgotten to my soul. The helix of my existance; one with nature now.

I was a child of the forest; the guardian of the ocean. A better world left behind with my wisdom years.

I remember the fireflies playing the piano of sunrise, and the wolves symphonies of nightfalls.

The Nightingale's love letter for a Beast; the way her hands held my heart so peacefully before tearing my heart clean from my chest.

A bitter farewell, and now everything else is just a blur.

I survived.
For some reason.
Somehow.
I am still here.

Ice has burrowed into the void of my heart. The blue hues of the ocean soul cascaded into purple waterfalls of the mourning star.

A Yuletide Heart; cursed to walk the moonlight nuturing natures Dead Gardens....

Author's Note

Every sentence marks a fresh page of diary entries, put together to piece a fractured timeline of his life.

Reviews

[busterlee]

It was a pleasure to read. Did you notice that you linked natural with unnatural in many of the lines? Again, it was a smooth pleasant read.

[TheRaven]

Quick pointing of a typo. 'nuturing' there on the final line. Think you missed an 'r' for nurturing. Unless you meant something else for stylistic effect. Anyway, back to focusing.

Love the opener. Nothing dries sooner than a tear. Our momentary shedding of sorrow lasts but mere moments, however the pain of loneliness and absence of the one we loved lasts eternal.

Each sentence, each diary entry. It's a lovely, bittersweet description holding the contents of this man's life. In truth, it seems more to me that it's every man's life. I remember, I remember, I remember... Nostalgia is a beautiful, yet bitter thing. We remember, but we can't recall the thing we want most back. Innocence perhaps, childhood naivety. A man who has lost much, perhaps lost it all: and here is is, living old. Living far too long past the moment where the last of his joyous memories came from, with no one else left to cherish them with. His life was once full and blooming, and the memory of it will be too. But, for now, he's nurturing a dead garden; his graveyard of memories.

[stargirl23]

This was such a beautiful piece wow

[Ruth]

Wow...the imagery and emotion within this are so beautifully woven...masterful!

[Ted Kniffen]

A very good poem. I enjoyed it. One thing is the tense change near the end,

Ice has burrowed into the void of my heart. The blue hues of the ocean soul cascaded into purple waterfalls of the mourning star.

May be "Ice has burrowed into the void of my heart. The blue hues of the ocean soul cascade into the purple waterfalls of the mourning star."

Good write

[Alexandra Hounschell]

This is absolutely beautiful

[andrew mitchell]

A nice flowing write, lovely imagery and permafrost came to mind when you said ice has burrowed into the heart.

[FaeryQueen]

great piece, loved this!!!
i can't wait to read more from you!!!

[Stan Lee]

Interesting language. Very deep and haunting. Leaves me wondering what has actually happened. Great idea. I like it. :)

[richieb]

A very deep and beautiful poem. Distinct imagery to mark the passage of time. Graceful use of nature to tell a sad story. Haunting loneliness becomes the survivor, excellent work.