Thank you, Axilea for sharing with us your search. Those who seek will find. The truth is not hiding from anyone, but it is so close that we don't see it. Nothing is lost in life. The reviewers are not sleepy, but their time has not come yet. Emile

This poem [speaks to me] about the tumultousness of life, and being able to discover who we are and what beauty lies within each one of us --- like a lost poem. IT is there, we just need to find it.

God bless you. Kathy

Fascinating construction, Axilea, with the insertion of the tight stanza about the hunter... in context, makes me think Orion and Artemis. THAT lifts the poem into the mysterious, begging more questions than it answers. But the concluding lines are fabulous and so complete: "to redeem one's poem from dirt is soft cosmogony for lighter years ahead". This concept resets the mythical compass. Fantastic work. TY Kate xx

The poems of the romantic are never lost only misplaced or put on the back burner of life. They may simmer there for ages but the like a well savored dish the flavor only improves with time. We as poets carry many of our best works...not as journals, not on scarps of paper and not on the screen but in our day to day actions, deeds and dreams. Lovely write dear one.
hugs
Fee

Thank you Leo! The other reviewers were obviously as sleepy as the author... ;-))

"There is more than a few lines
of truth unblurred,
under mountains of mud"
That's the great thing about truth. No matter the amount of mud, it doesn't blur. It doesn't rust. That poem, that song, that maxim (to borrow from you last poem) is still just as moving (sometimes moreso) when re-found as it was when it was lost.
And the truth is, you are an incredible poet.
Nit-picks: necesity = necessity, "there is more . . ." = "there are more . . ."
Leo

Someone should tell you that your poem was never lost, because when ink weren't available a tear in your quill was the only thing you needed to write it down...
A mysterious pen from a mysterious smiling soul.

Georg

I had a map once-- a map that mapped the stars.
And there was this constellation that very clearly
mapped out the purpose of me.
Wish I could find it now...

Every once in a while I remember a piece of it, like...
So I right (write?) it down,
sometimes unsure of exactly where the pieces go--
but who knows? Like you, maybe some day I'll find the whole of it too.
--Charlie

I think some of my best writes are lost rattling around in my head.damn I should of had my paper square in my back pocket.....I'm glad you found yours axilea,cause are all keepers,nice lines..
take care
stan