I hear the night

this is not one of my favorite poems, but then again, the creator is his worst critic. everyone has different opinions.

I hear the night



I hear the night,

The darkness approaching,

Encircling my faith, eager to attack

No longer shall my heart thrive for the sweet hum of safety,

Which is now slowly escaping my naïve soul

As it is gently replaced by the melancholy drone of society’s command,

Now a phantom, a transparent form,

Caught in the labyrinth of our concrete world

I see a still nothingness, a dark, rough profile of injustice

Lurking in invisibility, close behind,

It is cloaked in the obscurity of my obedient shadow

As the pale skin, of a hushed moon watches overhead

It hangs, blankly in the sky, muffled by the ominous clouds

Its watchful gaze creates numbness through my extremities,

As the soft, cold, crying voice of the wind lingers upon my fingertips

And the harsh solemn ground rustles, shivering beneath my feet

 

Author's Note

this is not one of my favorite poems, but then again, the creator is his worst critic. everyone has different opinions.

Reviews

[Astrid Hamilton]

This poem sounds through ears listening as if it were written in a plce in the future of your mind,
new horizons from that same abandoned naitivity, so then written through captured wisdom
of what it means to truly let go and no longer be afraid,
of your heart being broken, not necessarily in love,
and it is your understanding,
you are,
I see,
telepathically,
(but not literally, physically)
an old Native American with crinkly eyes
(remember? )
(-remembering-)
and there you are, sitting in some winds, blowing by is tumbleweed,
and you didn't take that chance in youth,
so how very well could you have been hurt except hurting the self by not being hurt, in the end?
(and there you are, SURPRISED! - {and with a great smile illuminating your beautiful wisdom face}
like that sacred moon,
which wanted to dance so soon,
sooner than you allowed that crying voice to refrain from crying out-
even in silence, no one can truly hear-

WoW!

what a magnificent wonder is this poem,
which somehow paints an illustration of what it truly means to becoming,
by being free,
to do so,
feeling through the soul of the heart.


Thank you.