Wondering

[Bar22do]

What is it that of late

love too rests, like sunlight,
on the mornings’ torpor,
revealing new beauties,
thirsts, or goals?

It descends each morning,
like pure snow
winding about the summits
becoming river, sea, cloud, rain,

vast silence, in which
a small still voice can be heard.

Love gently plays
with innumerable fingers
on our days.

We listen and wonder.

[Jack of Hearts]

What is it that of late

is causing such an influx of good poems around here?






J

[Delta40]

I feel your poems are always accompanied by some soothing music in the background Bar. The words pour off the page like a gentle breeze.

[tailor STATELY]

Delightful, and most touching.

May we all be as receptive.

Deepest regards,
tailor STATELY

[ShadowsCool]

Mmmm kinda like music. Great job on this.

Shadows

[Bar22do]

Thanks Jack, Delta, tS and Shadows for your kind visit of this thread and for liking what it offers!

[Jerrybaldy]

i await its fingers. Nice poem bar.

[Bar22do]

Thanks Jerry.
(a trite remark, but they may come when one expects the least...)

[ucello]

Love is tangible, at times. Definitely. Well expressed and makes one long.

[Bar22do]

So sorry, U, I never thanked you for your kind comment and have only noticed now. So, better late than never. Apologies and great thanks.

[hallaig]

What is it that of late

love too rests, like sunlight,
on the mornings’ torpor,
revealing new beauties,
thirsts, or goals?

It descends each morning,
like pure snow
winding about the summits
becoming river, sea, cloud, rain,

vast silence, in which
a small still voice can be heard.

Love gently plays
with innumerable fingers
on our days.

We listen and wonder.

yes I like the gentle atmosphere in this, though - mind, it's probably cos I'm too thick- I cannae make real sense of the first 5 lines. It's maybe the word 'too'. are you saying what is it that love rests on the morning's torpor? And the answer is love?

[aliengirl]

There is something serene and soothing about this poem. These lines are my favorites-




It descends each morning,
like pure snow
winding about the summits
becoming river, sea, cloud, rain,

vast silence, in which
a small still voice can be heard.

[mutedresponse]

Very much agree with others mentioning this piece is accompanied by music. Beautifully delicate write.

[Bar22do]

hallaig, thanks for your kind comment. Light alone wakes the day, but at (rare) times of bliss, the first feeling one gets upon awakening is that love joins light to greet the day (these are special days).... the poem wonders what makes one feel this way, there is no answer, perhaps simply nature's transient gift...

aliengirl and mutedresponse, thanks for hearing the music and feeling soothed by this poem!

[firefangled]

This poem gives an independent presence to love and acknowledges its creative force in the world. It is a special person who feels this and knows how to express it. Love is not something unique to humans and animals. We have only named it.

[Bar22do]

You express exactly the raison d'être of this poem. You always reach for life's depths.
Thanks for your kind reading and for liking my effort, Fire. :)