Lessons Of Spring Poem by Hugh Cobb
Lessons Of Spring
Sky's so blue it could pierce your heart.
Fireball at its center slowly moves on its ancient way.
All in all, a day of striking beauty. A feast
for senses: warm, fragrant, life emerging
cell by cell, bursting into being:
a host of daffodills demands notice;
a few puffy clouds stand out against fierce, relentless blue.
How is it possible not to rejoice?
How can spirit not dance & sing?
Perhaps it is in knowing there are so few Springs remaining.
Is this the last your eyes may behold?
If so, then hold them more precious in your melancholy heart.
Do not mourn, for you are not yet numbered
among the shades in Elysium.
You still can feel the force of wind,
the breath of nature as your own.
Breathe in & taste life bursting
all flavors on your tongue... from sweetest to most acrid
& know the special blessing of each.
Do not despair your years.
Each is precious. Each is numbered:
as the hairs on your head or grains of sand on a beach.
Be still. Be one with life; one with Love
& though heart's chase may pass you by
remember loves foregone, the passion of each kiss
each caress, a gift forever in your spirit, held
for this time, this Spring.
Observe & bless each moment,
for each moment offers a chance
better to know your spirit
& the living part of All-That-Is you are.
(Copyright 3/31/2006)
I do not think it is ethical or creative to copy Charles Chaim Wax...
A poem of care and humanity, Hugh. You're the guardian angel of PH, guiding us and leading us into springs of goodness and love, such as here. I got right inside this piece of writing, Hugh. Thank you for sharing it. Thank you also for your lovely words on my poem. With warmth, Gina.
The lovely images in the season of rejuvenation balanced delicately with the pensiveness of darkness yet to come. The word blue takes on double meaning and is skilfully employed to drive the poignancy home. The underlying sense of desolation pervades, however, never to the extent of absolute woe as past reflections provide solace.'Do not mourn, for you are not yet numbered / among the shades in Elysium' is a bit of ah roight, mate. Salutos!
Hugh, you've written this with extreme confidence and authority. no timidness or wavering with your words. Bold, vivid writing and well-delivered. Touching, too! two nits: the repetition of 'blue' in stanza one, and the repetition of 'by' in stanza two. cheers!
A very beautiful word painting of a season That always touches the heart and lingers in the mind like a vintage standard tune. Kindest regards, Sandra Fowler
Hugh, a beautiful poem, and portrait of a season that touches all of us. Very detailed images and language springs then sooths the brittle soul left from winter's dreary chill. A pleasure to read this eve, and surly thought will linger in my travels tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 7:59:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Another poem of great spiritual insight! ! I hope I learn! !