I hear the wind outside my window
Without a forest to wave it through
Without the mountains to guide its way
Without the clouds to give it snow
I hear the wind outside the door
Without the aching winter chill
Without the power of northern gale
Without the moonlight on the floor
I hear the wind and hear the past
Without a way to bring it back
For nothing is ever meant to last
Nothing is ever meant to last
Another poem before bed. Something about that time allows my thoughts to move unhindered.
I most often write poetry when other methods of perusing my emotions fail me. My poems are deeply personal and reflect facets of my life that I can't specifically talk to people about without first building a foundation of trust.
Since you like this, I would guess we have more in common than Ithought.
I too have written several poems in the past that I believe reflect a lot my deeper emotions that I don't usually discuss, so it would appear we definitely have that in common. :)
I'll have to see if I can dig up any of those old poems. I don't think I've ever posted any of my poetry, other than one very silly poem written at 3am.
I'll be very interested to read them. I wonder how my own meditations differ from others in subject and style.
Link
Ikodo Moonstrife
I really like this poem. I've always liked dark and emotional poems, especially ones similar to this that draw subtle comparisons between nature, our surroundings, and our experiences and emotions.