When the storm passed
light awakened the coastline
gray and shrouded,
sharp with detail.
The cabins, the old dock,
even the gulls in flight,
bathed in a world almost new;
as if sorrow were over
and we could begin again.
When the storm passed
light awakened the coastline
gray and shrouded,
sharp with detail.
The cabins, the old dock,
even the gulls in flight,
bathed in a world almost new;
as if sorrow were over
and we could begin again.
A fine metaphor for today and Easter.
Oh beautiful Don.
I get so mired in the storms!!
I shall now remember that the light breaks thru.
Wow! So imagistic! Just wonderful! Must share!
BINGO!!
It is like the day after everything seems to go awry, and after a good sleep you wake up fresh again, and everything is going right as if by magic.
“with the exuberance of a dancer in the spotlight”……I love that image…..
Yes! Letting that moment imprint deeply.
In the back of the mind, knowing that storms will come again, and then sunlight, renewal, again beginning…
…yet, there are shadow dancers, in the dark of night, refusing to slip away come light of day.
A perfect metaphor for some of the processes of grief I have been experiencing. Hard to believe a process so harsh and painful can also have beauty emerge from within it. I see this poem as a description of mercy.
Exquisite, Don. Imbued with qualities akin to the Great Ones.
Poem after poem, refinement is shared, in gratitude. db
“The storm, the shifter of shapes, drives on” (Rilke)
Beautiful; evokes in me the mystical of that moment. Surrounded in luminescence; the Shakina Presence.
Thanks for reminding me of the creative process, as I am still developing!
We are getting there… not as quickly as we would hope, but nonetheless, that new world is on our horizon, blessing us as it comes.
I will keep this for Easter morning. Beautifully stated. Thank you, Don.
This reminded me of the power we each bring to the moment, wherever it may be. Am I the storm, the wind and the light moving the storm or the dancer accepting what is as if it never was before? “I am that I am” and “I am where I am.” A beautiful gift has been sent, received and sent again.
In the midst of the storm, it’s good to acknowledge it’s just another cycle thundering through our lives. This, too, will pass. And when it does, aaaaaah, such clarity, such relief. But it’s good to remember there is also beauty in the storm.
… “as if …” the longer I live the harder it appears to fully believe it is new.
Storms are often exhilarating with their increase of strong energies that often bringing fear of the unknown and disruption of the status quo. Your poem reminds me that always I have definition, sharp detail and clear vision that follows the breach. So I welcome a storm! Thank you, Don
I can see poets point calling you home
Great Easter poem, Don!
Back in the USA from down under. Lovely poem that truly captures what i see and feel after storm/rain clouds clear out and the beauty of the landscape or seascape springs to life.