Memory of Wind: Remnants of love

This came from a song by the name of Memory of Wind.

Heart beats fade out like morning mists
and temperate thoughts dry up before vivid suns.
My hands shake with the wake of the cresting blue sea...
And the wind calls softly to gray the grayest soul.

Suddenly, bullets paint the world in wild shades of red,
hues so deep and violent shake my white hands.
But, hands touch down yellow and soft like mother's kisses--
father's firm hands no longer here carry strongly--
but, the river, the tears, break through a pale vale of gray...
the wind sings softly to this gray soul--among a sea of charcoal.

Then again, the heart resounds clearly within the stark battle-field.
filled with remnants of ember, ash, and Mother's lullaby...
my gray shroud, follows in suit.

Father's hands fly out over the morning dew,
and the sun blinds.
Nonetheless, I dip my hands into crests of the cerulean sea,
and my shivers ebb out.

My song and longing now lie with the passing of the breeze,
sweet, temperate, and nostalgic.

Reviews

[John A. Ayala]

"Nonetheless, I dip my hands into crests of the cerulean sea"

This verse reminded me of the god Poseidon. From there on the poem gives a sense of vastness and calm dissolution along with the elements.

- John

[songstress]

Thank you for reviewing my poem. I find your interest in mythology and the individual Gods really interesting. I wish that I could ask if that plays an integral part in your life, but I would not wish to limit that question to only the gods. So, I wish to know do you have an interest in the classics, and works that have the same constructs as old lore? Regardless, thank you for the review. It was really kind of you.

[John A. Ayala]

Thank you Songstress. I delve into the myths and traditions of different cultures as a means to the creation of life-affirming interpretations of reality. As a graduate student in Philosophy, my main interests include Ancient Philosophy, Nietzsche, Pierre Hadot, and Howard Barker.