Curious Ambiance

A poem about impressions that live on.

 

 

 

Chasing pleasures, those worthwhile moments

billowing resonance...some melodiously soothing

worries away, a pot of thoughts stirred with good

intention clockwise, bringing fruition to desires;

keeping direction,

 

everything that came before has somewhere to flow,

destiny unknown; but like the natural sweet melody

of listening energy warming memories of so long ago,

submitting strikes a chord revealing itself when least

envisaged,

 

music cascading like willow tree surrendering leaves

to sudden breeze, where pulse beats swiftly...breathless

as birds migrating,

 

while base of mossy trunk's bark softly drenched

in embrace of Autumn's approaching sweet chant,

soothing as dripping honey, where whimsical murmur

of forest mystery awaits pleasures serene,

 

perhaps secrets uncovered beneath rustling fallen leaves,

are like hidden pressed papery petals of beauty; waiting

to be discovered between pages of well read old books,

 

just as that which is obscured...essence still remains;

will continuation surrender clear contrast between

what was once alive, yet elusively transcending

environment, reinforcing everything fleeting or enduring.

 

An explaination of this poem.

The first part is talking about concentrating on positive thoughts

that are clear and vibrant, bringing goodness out of the shadows

that maybe hiding...that's one impression discovered.

 

Feelings from the past have an impact on who we are now, only

when we think about it, do we realize just how much, like hearing

favourite music from our past, and understanding how much of

an impression it made on us, like the willow tree surrendering its

leaves, our hearts beat like the wings of birds with exhilaration of

impressions discovered.

 

The last part of the poem, is how the forest embraces impressions,

like the seasons changing, with autumn soon approaching, not with

fear or worry, but acceptance, concentrating on its pleasures of 

forest neighbourhood impressions, 

 

There are cones and acorns hidden beneath that remain to form 

new life, but which we don't realize because we don't get to nurture

except when we collect and take home to look at...then they leave 

an impression.

 

Just as what is hidden in forest, its essence still remains, just as we

have our memories of loved ones now passed on, the recollections

maybe fleeting in our busy lives, but they are enduring.

 

Hope this explains better my poem and thank you for reading.