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Michael

Moderator

Member Rara Avis

since 1999-08-13

Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2012-10-18 10:38 PM

Segregated

Ttrembling, north as the eddies flow,
I walk the segregated row--
Turn eyes upon that sainted stone
Which sets before me like a throne.
A face, etched in marble, so real
It's fleshly form I long to feel;
But words, that singe the soul, beneath
Remind me of all men bequeath.

A funeral procession passes by,
Unseen by naked, mortal eye.
Spirits gathered unto this place
To view their newest, lifeless face.
And as the morning's dew drips past
This speck in time not meant to last,
A mournful cry touching not live ears
Reveals each drop as living tears...

...that bleed from the souls, one by one,
In our accomplishments undone.
...that tinge the breeze as it floats by
To darkness no man could descry.
...that echo through the hollow void,
Life after love long since destroyed...
A testament to hope extinguished
By this form before me so distinguished.

Stone statues in a flowered bed
Ever commemorate the dead,
In all emotion overlooked while living
Toward an end so unforgiving.
Among the specters, stand I here;
No animosity -- no fear,
But long for them to see me too,
That again I might stand next 'you.

As gold outlines the mountaintop,
Bringing spectral dance to a stop;
Day creeping upon me, unbade,
Watch I visions of splendor fade...
To stand alone, to sift the dust
Of circumstance I dare not trust;
For all I know, in losing you,
By all accounts I am dead too.

Unrecognized by those gone afore,
By those who linger after, ignored...
I daily walk this shadowed path,
To play part in the aftermath.
A haunting forever caught between
This world and one far more serene;
Trembling, north as the eddies flow,
I walk the segregated row.

Michael Anderson

Death's but a path that must be trod,
If man would ever pass to God.

Thomas Parnell

JerryPat2
Member Laureate

since 2011-02-06

Posts 16975
South Louisiana

1 posted 2012-10-19 08:03 AM

quote:
A funeral procession passes by,
Unseen by naked, mortal eye.
Spirits gathered unto this place
To view their newest, lifeless face.
And as the morning's dew drips past
This speck in time not meant to last,
A mournful cry touching not live ears
Reveals each drop as living tears...

It was here that my ears perked up and I began reading in "dead" earnest. Your treatment of visions from beyond was excellently rendered, Michael.

~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~

Spiros Zafiris
Senior Member

since 2002-10-20

Posts 982
Canada

2 posted 2012-10-24 02:59 AM

..strong words/poem..a journey i reread..

..>>spiros
~~

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