In the dying flames,
Of the falling sun,
It is his eyes I see,
Staring back at me,
Wondering where I have been-
Why I do not come to him when he calls me,
Asking who I see,
Why I do not speak of where I have been.
I could have told him;
It is his lovely face I see every night,
Flaring in the burning embers of my fire-
I could have said,
I felt his touch every morning,
When the dew fell on my face,
I imagined it was his lips,
Kissing me awake-
I could have told him,
How much I missed the sound of his voice,
How I replayed every conversation in my mind,
Until I fell into a weary sleep-
I walked so many miles trying to escape this feeling,
And when the road led me back to the beginning,
He was a year older,
And waiting for my return…
His voice making my heart smile,
Skipping a beat with every word I hear,
The light in his eyes making me smile,
With the way he looked at me.
At last I understood,
This is the glory of love,
To be forgiven when you can not forgive yourself,
To see his light in your darkest despair,
To find him waiting there,
When you return from your journey,
To find yourself and discover,
that the love you looked for,
Was there all along;
I cannot believe I have not already reviewed this, Retta... I must have read it several times before, and have kept coming back to it for its reassurance and healing balm... Like both Nordette and Anita say, this poem is lavish with its oil of grace. Uplifting sentiments that soothe a troubled soul and bestow restoration and favour. Just beautiful, thank you, dear Retta. LOL Kate xx
A skillfully crafted write filled with beauty that you always bring to the poetic table, Retta. Throughly enjoyed it. As Anita says, so graceful. ~~Nordette
this is such a wonderful exploration of the way we torture ourselves, only to find out it was all unnecessary...or rather, that what we thought was external was really without ourselves all the time...always appreciate the way you tell a story and make it feel as if we're right there with you...
I've missed your work Retta. With all that has been happening in my life, I simply haven't had the time that I'd like to read and review the works of my favourite poets. It was good to read you again and I hope that I will be able to read more. This is wonderful!
Chanti
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on May 3, 2006
The line to be forgiven when..... strikes me too, a divine poem, Rein..
Reviewed by Joseph* OneLight*® (Reader)
Reviewed on May 3, 2006
Dear Reindeer,
I always find myself diving into your words.
This line, especially, touched my heart:
"This is the glory of love,
To be forgiven when you can not forgive yourself"
What a joy it is to know an artist like you in this life!
This is definitely a keeper, They say, " absence makes the heart grow fonder." Your poem was a pleasure to read. It flowed beautifully. I feasted on every word from beginning to end.
I know so little about the ways and cultures of our Native Americans. Your words are my only relliable sources. Howsomeever, I don't bellieve a man's ego, or love for a woman has changed that much. Yes, I would take her as my own to love, but, By damn, she'd know that I wasn't putting up with any more of that Hollywood kind of loyalty and fidelity. Loved the weave of your words, and the wonderful conclusion, bringing forth an opnion from yours truly.
- Bill
A magical love poem and story that tells what true love can be, with it's uncertainties, certainties and when sometime time proves all to be right. A lovely story.
"Was there all along;" Absolutely fantastic writing with the purpose of letting the reader understand the depth and longevity of sweet, true, wonderful love. This poem, to me, is among the best I have read from you and THAT is saying a lot. This one is saved for fguture glimpses.
Retta
A sublime dissertation on the wonders of love, you reach the zenith of emotion and feeling in this exceptional composition..
Your touching graphic underpins the message !
Love and Light
Peter
Hearts of Gold
Synopsis
by
Frank P. Whyte
Portland, Oregon is known as the City of Roses. Of course that’s an odd name for a city whose mere mention conjures images of driving winds and torrential ra
Just as life during the pandemic was color-coded with different hues representing different levels of danger, life in its aftermath has become shaded in similar ways. As a self-styled “Seeker of Beauty with Beauty,” (borrowing from a quote by W.E.B.
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Your poetic brilliance will always shine . . .!!
Best wishes,
Lance
Masood
This is glorious I love it!!
Saved this in my library..to read and re-read..thankyou dear friend!
Vesna:)
Ron
the yearning is so authentic
graceful poetry Retta
pax A
Best wishes
Birgit and Roger
And when the road led me back to the beginning,"
Perfectly expressed.
Sam
Regis
Chanti
I always find myself diving into your words.
This line, especially, touched my heart:
"This is the glory of love,
To be forgiven when you can not forgive yourself"
What a joy it is to know an artist like you in this life!
Love & Light,
Joseph
This is definitely a keeper, They say, " absence makes the heart grow fonder." Your poem was a pleasure to read. It flowed beautifully. I feasted on every word from beginning to end.
Paul;-)
eT
peace and love, jo
- Bill
Sublime, romantic spiritual in "Wordless Conversation" all is wonder,
and the wisdom of love abounds throughout its lines.
I salute You, Sublime Poet!
Long healthy life through a blissful productive living.
Gratefully,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Felix
Love tinka
A sublime dissertation on the wonders of love, you reach the zenith of emotion and feeling in this exceptional composition..
Your touching graphic underpins the message !
Love and Light
Peter
Exquisite, beautiful conversation. :) Well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Wonderful write; very well done! BRAVA!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D