Downing's poems

[downing]

Fate

Years bloomed and withered like orchids,
millenniums came and went like wild horses –
reputed contestants in the gruelling race of Age.

One spring day you were sent to Earth
and God promised that we’d be separated
just for a twist of Infinity’s fingers.

I lingered on until the second winter of your life;
that evening you were nervous in your mother’s arms
but you weren’t hungry and you had slept enough.

While watching the snowflakes behind the window
(it was snowing hard that day), at a quarter past seven
you cried out – your first hello from miles away.

We carried on our existence in a comfortable
lack of knowledge of the other’s breathing,
of the other’s living and dreaming.

Orchids bloomed and withered,
wild horses ran and paused at the sea of Time,
you aged and I aged.

One autumn afternoon there was a poem – mine
and there came a sole comment – yours.
The twist of fingers was done.

[Bar22do]

Drenched with romanticism, a poem of meetings, early, late... never too late... for as "they" say, "a moment can make eternity"... lost souls not always find each other but when they do, the whole universe rejoices and the forces of evil mutter...
It's a moving post, Downing, as sometimes Fate is.

Welcome and best wishes - Bar

[downing]

Thank you so much, Bar :)

[Janine]

Beautiful Downing. I was truly touched. I am a romantic myself as you well know. I think that your poetry and vocabulary have much developed since I last read any of your poems. Keep up the great work; keep writing. I think you have much talent. I truly loved this poem!

[downing]

Oh, Janine, I truly appreciate your comment, especially because it makes a comparison with what I had written before and this is really helpful. Thank you!

[Janine]

Oh, Janine, I truly appreciate your comment, especially because it makes a comparison with what I had written before and this is really helpful. Thank you!

You're welcome! I will write to you tomorrow or next day. I am busy today and tomorrow most of the day. Glad to read your poem but it will take more time to read the short story, since I am busy with cleaning at present.

[qimissung]

What beautiful language! I loved this-moving, thoughtful, stately, elegant, and a little mysterious...

[downing]

Quite a compliment, qimissung! Thank you so much!

[PrinceMyshkin]

It is indeed both a beautiful poem and a moving one. I must however be missing something of the narrative thread because at one point it reads as if the person addressed died young?

The twisted fingers image is brilliant. Thanks.

[downing]

Thank you, Prince. No, the person doesn't die. The entire thing starts somewhere in Heaven, after which the soulmates are born, one after another at 2 winters distance. If this isn't understood, it's my fault..just let me know if this is the case.

[Haunted]

I too, thought someone died at age 2, somehow it sounds final to me:


I lingered on until the second winter of your life

love the images of wild horses, orchids and snowflakes. They paint a warm and beautiful picture.

[tailor STATELY]

downing, your poem's sentiments are precious to me on several different levels.

Your imagery of time's course. A pre-mortal existence; where covenants, or promises are made.

A veil, or vale, of forgetfulness throughout mortality:
We carried on our existence in a comfortable lack of knowledge of the other’s breathing,of the other’s living and dreaming.

And more than I can, or should, write for lack of eloquence.

[downing]

Thank you both! A little enlightenment: lingered on until the second winter of your life is the soul lingering in Heaven until being born. That winter day, at a quarter past 7, the poetic narrator is born.

[blank|verse]

This has some great moments and fantastic imagery in what is overall an attractive poem.

Like others, I was a bit distracted by what the 'second winter' really meant; but more than that, I thought the poem would be better without the use of Great Abstractions - Time, Age, Infinity, and the title 'Fate'. There's an intimate, personal story in this poem somewhere, that is being lost by the use of such portentous concepts.

Still, good poem.

[downing]

blank verse, thank you for your comment. Of course, I cannot alter anything now, but I'll keep in mind your suggestions for the future :)

[Virgil]

Oh my gosh Downing, this is outstanding. I'm really taken in by the language, the rhythm, the imagery, the shear beauty of this. Even the theme (and I needed you telling us it starts in heaven) seems deep and complex. This is absolutely top notch.

Such fabulous little stanzas such as these:

One spring day you were sent to Earth
and God promised that we’d be separated
just for a twist of Infinity’s fingers.

and these


Orchids bloomed and withered,
wild horses ran and paused at the sea of Time,
you aged and I aged.

One autumn afternoon there was a poem – mine
and there came a sole comment – yours.
The twist of fingers was done.

I just love the way the orchids and wild horses return, as well as the twist of fingers. My goodness, I can't believe you're 17 years old and English is not your first language.
:thumbs_up:thumbs_up

[downing]

Wow, Virgil, I must say - I'm impressed! Thank you!