The Letting Go
By Silver Spun Sand
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I got all hung up ...
on the word 'deliquescent' and had to go look it up. Is this poem fashioned onto anothers rhyme scheme - or pattern, because it feels in places peculiarly familiar...
favourite bits.... '
"the grey heron whose wide wings spread
captured the light from the first of morning red
in flypast of feather and quill"
and
"timbre of its tone...all seabirds
and stars and flying fish"
it's good as I see you fly in the spaces....
maisie Guess what? I'm still alive!
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someone once told me...
that to be a truly great poet you have to let go of the walls... hence fly dear girl... fly :)
maisie Guess what? I'm still alive!
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Those last two stanzas are
Those last two stanzas are most poignant in addressing loss. Lovely poem.
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Tina, my heart wrenched....
... all I could feel was NO - Don't let go!!!
I totally understand that you have to, to survive, to stay sane through the perfect insanity of the life-death-life cycle and inescapable nature of life, but boy are those good times such rare gems...
I always feel when I'm crying or missing someone as an association creeps up, that I am supremely blessed to have had such good experiences that I'm priviledged to cast a tear from my overflowing heart...
Stay well xx
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Wouldn't it be wonderful if
Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could bottle and cork those precious moments we share with loved ones? To be able to open at leisure, so we could with all our senses, enjoy once more.
Your words touched a chord Tina, from one who finds it hard to let go of those special times.
Jenny.
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