Open Poetry #32 |
When Hollow Sticks Sing |
jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
When Hollow Sticks Sing Watching dragonflies swinging on the end of long grass stems blowing in the wind I seem to hear the long, mournful notes of a long gone, wooden flute. Closing my eyes I see a boy – nude but for a cloth at his hips, thong circling his head – sitting on a rock, flute to his lips, and I wish I was he. I wish I could blow into a hollow stick and tell the world what I saw, what I felt inside, what I wanted to be, who I am. Watching dragonflies swinging on the end of long grass stems blowing in the wind, eyes closed, head swaying in unison to the notes of a long gone, wooden flute, for a time I am he, in reverie. w. james beard, jr. (c) april 2004 ...was listening to R. Carlos Nakai's "Dreamer's Chant" and - well, fell into "reverie" |
||
© Copyright 2004 Wesley James Beard, Jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
jwesley, this I adored! And, I understand the feeling. All my childhood I lived near ancient Indian mounds in Ohio. In three of four seasons, I found myself in similar situations, communing with nature, pretending to be one of them, and sometimes, I think maybe I was, too! See, I really, really liked your poem! |
||
passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
loved the ending lines there incredible write! |
||
muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
your "hollow stick" is full of ink, and it sings to the page...this is an enchanting write |
||
Susan Member Ascendant
since 2004-03-27
Posts 5104walking the surreal |
Very, very nice. I can almost hear the music. Susan |
||
garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
I wish I could blow into a hollow stick and tell the world what I saw, what I felt inside, what I wanted to be, who I am. James, some folks can make musical instruments talk, can't they? Memories of a couple of my friends who played music for our quartet when we used to sing came to my mind. Hugs, Ethel |
||
Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Jimmy Dragonflies are special messengers...I'm not surprised that one brought you this special reverie. |
||
Grover Senior Member
since 2004-01-27
Posts 1967London, ON, Canada |
This is an excellent write! |
||
serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"nude but for a cloth at his hips, thong circling his head – sitting on a rock, flute to his lips, and I wish I was he." me too, j., me too that's an intiguing visual m'friend. a lovely reverie you write... |
||
jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
I really miss the simpler life - even if only of the 50's and I've always dreamed of sitting on a rock playing an instrument, making beautiful noise . . . but alas, the only music I can make is with the radio or it's like... Thanks much, always, for all your wonderful comments, and the time you take to read my stuff. walk easy... jimmy |
||
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
James, we need a new photo of you, and that 'baby' ~*~ I seem to hear the long, mournful notes of a long gone, wooden flute. ~*~ Yes, indeed... the reverie is clear... thank God. |
||
⇧ top of page ⇧ | ||
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. |