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A Little Poem


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So, I wrote this a while back...and it's sortof a vague little poem, about the experience of grief, and hope for some sort of newness, while still remembering our loved ones...

It's not very direct. I guess you could call it...metaphorical. Not sure if it makes sense, but anyway... :rolleyes:


by Chai

Pendulum pendulum

endlessly shaking, waking

waking the prisoner.

He walks, he drifts,

his eyes lift from the mist

and meet the sun that has

suddenly come into


Being new, being alive

he walks into the horizon

Steps across a field

of yellow lights

No anger, no fright

from the night anymore

His heart is not sore

Nor do his hands

tremble in rage, in

sustenance lost

He is found, he is

a cacophony of melodies

that stutter and sink

and slide into a new

falling, a water falling

of jubilant cries

and sighs and

no more lies.

Speak, shout, leap

through the air like

the porpoise, the gazelle

away from grief, from hell

from the need to need

nothing at all.

Now it is fall

and the golden leaves

glitter, sparkle, lie

in warm beds on the ground

whispering, whispering of

the love and light

that they have



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I think your poem is amazing. It speaks volumes of our struggle, the chaos, the hope for our loved ones. Thank you for sharing it.


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:) Thank you very much, kath.

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