.
.
.
It was late
Frighteningly
Desperately
Late
So late
The night birds were gone to sleep
and still years for sunrise
Too late
For those who cared
And who cares?
The few still do…
He knew the Sun
He would see no other time
All He did
Hear
That hard attempt to breathe
Once again
Each one
Taking a longer step
Let me tell you something back
While you
Voices
Plead me
To walk to the light in peace
No more grief
Misery
Agony
Let me tell you something back
So many things I am leaving behind
But my voice
Despite yours
Has run away
It’s so late
It is
Running late
Running where?
.......................................................................................
24 comments:
but the good news is that it is never too late, until it is...smiles.
nice flow dulce...and as always the emotion...
It is never too late for love, I had always thought. But it can be. And that is sad. And it is sadder when one does not know where they are running.
I see 'obituary' in the labels. Is this death? Life?
Sometimes I don't understand.
Joy always,
Susan
Running where? That is the question. Too late for one relationship, but as they say: when one door closes, another opens.
Beautifully written, Dulce : )
it's late but,
never too late for love :)
Dear Brian
Susan
Felicitas
Larry
I am sorry, it seemed you did not quite understand what I am trying to convey here.
Yet, I feel I need you to understand, for this is about Death, not love.
It's amazing you saw it and that makes a poem even richer.
Now when it's about the agony of a beloved one's last moments... that's a different kind of love.
Thanks for coming!
ANd PLEASE If you happen to visit again. Go ahead and tell me what you now see :)
Love always ;)
i am back...and i still hold to my comment...even with the death of a loved one...too many wait until too late to say what they should have said all along...
which brings as much sorrow as if being too late and watching one pass...
you are right that is the beauty of poetry...
Here I am also. I was confused as I mentioned in my comment. I must thank you for taking the pain to let us know. You are sweet :)
The pieces fit now, I reckon. But poetry is poetry and one can dig out so many layers. I think it is to the poet's credit the layers are credited.
Joy always,
Susan
Oh Thank you so much my dear Brian!
Loved your holding to your previous comment... It's been so nice and sweet of you to come back!
:)
Thank you my dearest Susan!
And Sorry about this. I am glad you are so sincere and say you don not understand when you don't. that's so sweet of you too!
And you are so right when you say one can dig out so many layers in this poetry stuff... ;).
Joy always hun!
lovely Dulce -
I tag you with lots hugs :)
I sense the deep emotion that goes with death, separation and the love that will remain.
Love you Sweet One!
and so interesting how this syncs with my recent post :)
It's about the memory -
and going back to that home we never truly left.
Sorry, I could not find "obituary" in the labels. But hey, YOU! Sweeter poet! In "Running where?" I can see a "coming into that new life", of which we know not where, but have some skimpy notions.
Whoever "knew" your brother has received a gift--of understanding another puzzle-piece of the meaning of existence, of creation.
All is NOW! NOT yesterday, or tomorrow, but this INSTANT...IS Eternity.
Hard to conceive--
But what I believe.
-"Follower" Steve
Muchos abrazos y besos
Hey Steve
Obituary was there. But I changed it. Too sad a poem for such a sad label...
Thanks for commenting Sweetest Peep!
Mi querida Dulce es muy bello esto, un sentir y como todo sentir valioso, creo que tratándose de la muerte y no de amor como lo explicas, imagino que debe producir esta sensación, la vida me ha puesto muchísimas pruebas y la muerte hasta ahora ha sido benévola, igual y desde este dolor no conocido entiendo que la muerte nos ha sido mal enseñada y por lo tanto la hemos mal aprendido, como el tiempo que no existe así que hacia donde corremos??? qué perdemos????
Perdona mi ausencia.. la vida real a veces se impone a la virtual, tengo un poco abandonados a mis amigos, a Ti, es el tiempo de otra cosa, todo va y vuelve, ya volveré pero siempre estás muy cerca y se te quiere.
Besos:)
excellent questions...
running from time? it's always just a minute behind, or is it ahead? or is the very moment, where running stops time...?
while running, there isn't much else to do than be in ones own head...
whew... I'm winded.
So sad...
so Lovely...
so brilliant....
A visit from you is always brings a smile to my face...
Thanks...Galen
Dear Dulce
I came late.. :) but i read the poem and your comments ..i think it can go with both interpretations,it is never late for love yes,and either way if its a lost love or a lost soul..there is always a room for both,new beginnings always make memories alive..:)
and it is brilliantly written..as usual you strike querida..me encanta mucho..:)
hugs tight.
I can feel the frenzy of the words. As if I am running through my house trying to get out the door. And to where? And does it really matter?
Beautiful!!
"So late
The night birds were gone to sleep
and still years for sunrise"
I can't help but play with those words in my mind.
The comments are fantastic!
I didn't realize this was about death until I read all the comments. Even sadder still but, as always, beautifully written, with much pathos.
you always have such passion in your words.
warm smiles,
Beautiful poem, Dulce. Tragically poignant, with a well of deeper philosophy woven into it. I sometimes worry if it is too late, indeed, I'm sure we all do...
To stand still - cut off the
feelings and life - to move
forward - to embrace life and
love. Accepting the pain and
the pleasure. Dulce your words
capture perfectly that dilemma.
I would like to exchange links with your site sweeterpoetry.blogspot.com
Is this possible?
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