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Michael
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Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2021-02-25 05:14 PM



The Aeolian


Ominous walk, silent courtyard, sinister path to tread.
Worn and weary traveling bard, boots heavy as my head.
With weighted years of emptiness no soul alone should bear.
It’s only alone I’ll confess, my burden is the share.
A diverse path ‘twixt dream and woe not easily discerned.
A town abandoned long ago, most every building burned,
‘Thought to be destiny handing me keys to life alone.
But one building left here standing, alas, my church of stone.

The night sky crisp, a chill as sharp as time lost, desolate.
The breeze, God’s own Aeolian harp, tethers me to this fate.
No candle left to light the night, I near the missing doors.
Char marks visible in moonlight, cross plain unto the moors.
And with that single step, a flash of generations lost.
Of flame of life, of tears and ash, of eyes that weigh the cost.
An aisle to march, born of despair, a quest given the damned.
If to touch strings of stolen prayer, to still this quaking hand.

Outside, as howls of harsh winds blow a clamor quite severe,
The ashes on the altar show nothing will reach me here.
Insulation, a worthy friend in times of grief and woe.
Isolation, a mournful end and devastating blow.
I will not fall to my knees now, although I know I should.
I’ve never been one to allow thought spent on my own good.
But see her in the corner there, webbed in shadows of grief.
Product of neglect, disrepair, and abandoned belief.

I make my way across the room, to see what none may view.
In light of disquiet and gloom, set down with her on cue.
Finish tarnished, layers of dust, oh I *feel where she’s been.
Look to scarred fingers I mistrust, what magick’s left within?
I see the strings are broken, place hand on neck anyway.
Life of agonies misspoken leading me unto this day.
I came unto her willingly, knowing there’d be no return.
Won’t have the dream taken from me, for this I’ll ever burn!


A single pluck, a stirring chord, from one string still intact.
Diviner’s luck, beauty’s restored magically with the act.
The piece now whole, I dare to run fingers across new strings.
Promise of day gifts light of sun unto the offerings.
The fingers glide; I let them flow, a chorus for lost souls.
Outside the winds suddenly still, above, the church bell tolls.
In short manner of time I hear voices gathered outside.
The intentions made very clear, rebuild what’s long since died.

I play, they come; I sing, they hum…the town, it thrives again.
And through their eyes see to the ties of where it all began.
I live their love, their lies, their pain, their joys, their aches, their peace,
Weight of a million souls a strain that never grants release.
I play until my fingers bleed—till tears well in eye.
I play beyond the living need, and too, the need to die.
I pluck and pull, weary as Time, as desperate as Fate
To keep song going, true crime knowing neither can I sate.

‘Play till body slumps, till neck fails, each note, a year of life.
Till strings greet bone, as dread avails the cost to failing’s strife.
Chord lost to collapse, it’s not I who’s paying the true price.
But that I live those who now die, become the sacrifice.
I wake to blackness, smell of ash, the stone building emptied.
The town outside lost to the crash of unfilled human need.
Look to scabbed fingers and dried blood, the products of my waste,
Refuse to nurse them, what’s the good in forgetting this taste.

‘Make my way to the street outside, where not a soul remains.
Feet moving slow, eyes void of pride; my truth, the weight of chains
To hollow years spent on this quest, to stranger’s eyes I’ve passed
Without a glance, never to rest, my own always down cast.
To play a song of dire need, that no soul can resist.
To give my life for such vain deed, I sold my soul for this.
But, notes on the breeze, soft to face, I feel her on my skin.
The Aeolian’s out there someplace, I must touch her again.


Michael Anderson

2/25/2021

[This message has been edited by Michael (02-25-2021 09:17 PM).]

© Copyright 2021 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
Paul Wilson
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Elite
since 2002-07-07
Posts 4711
United States
1 posted 2021-02-25 09:52 PM


Michael...I must say this left me spellbound and mesmerized. You sure met my challenge and exceeded it way beyond my wildest dreams.

Just so you know when I wrote  "The Strings are all broken" I was referring to the strings on a guitar. I don't know how you connected with that phrase the same as I did, but something really weird made us make the same connection.

Really enjoyed the meeting of our two minds...Paul

~~To share my poems with you is to share my heart with you~~
Paul

augustsky
Senior Member
Posts 828
midwest US
2 posted 2021-03-08 04:47 PM


Michael, Quite an Intense read, & so Very
Original..well done Poet!

Sky~

~Do You Know That Feeling
Of Just Wanting To Get Lost
In a Starry night~..


Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California
3 posted 2021-03-15 01:18 PM


I'm glad you enjoyed this, Paul.  The phrase hit me on a personal level I guess.  Things broken, and the magicks missed because of the breaking.  People the same.  I see myself as someone whose wasted much of life trying to repair the broken...trying to bring something beautiful from the past, instead of bringing forth beauty from the future.  Which frankly is probably easier, even if a little scarier.
Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California
4 posted 2021-03-15 01:19 PM


Thank you for your reply, Skye.  Very happy you found it enjoyable.
Temptress
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-06-15
Posts 7136
Mobile, AL
5 posted 2021-05-14 07:35 PM


Seems despairing the hopeful, then despairing again and lastly, searching.I don't know if I am correct in the up and down of this. I've said this before.  Your scenes should be painted! If I tried to pick a favorite line I'd end up quoting the whole thing! Thank you for the ride.

"I know this love will tear me to pieces
I know his hands will dig up my secrets"

Meg Myers


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