Sprig Poem by Troy Cochran


Rating: 5.0

May a sprig of new green emerge
from every branch and twig
that I have pruned and hacked;

From every broken finger
that I have stood atop;
and every broken heart that I have all but stopped.

Where I have lacked
in scope of vision, seeing naught
but dead ends where the river bends,

May my story grow new arteries
and new tributary pay
to friendships I have sacked

And cities mend
that I have looked askance
while sitting in.

Sunday, September 17, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: friendship,healing,humanity,relationships,society
A poem about personal, national and global healing; looking at how I have lopped all others away in sculpting my own identity ~ even pushing whole nations away because of differences I have not yet dared to explore; now wishing to heal these dead ends within myself by reconnecting to other players in the Grand Story of Humanity ~ further out in my community, in my dilapidated and deeply wounded nation, and in peoples from other hemispheres. I wish to acknowledge the poet and educator Kumarmani Mahakul for the profound effect that his devotional, ethical and community-spirited poetry has had on me. His influence is part of the thread that weaves the new tapestry of my poetry, as may be seen in this poem for those acquainted with his work.
Practicing Poetess 17 September 2017

I really like this one. Wanting to start again. A second chance, and making amends. We are never too old to grow, change, and improve; to expand our vision. Beautifully written.

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Troy Cochran 18 September 2017

Imagine being connected by an instrumental string to everyone you know, everyone who knows your name, or shares your bubble of reality. When we think of each other, this webwork vibrates; we are singing to each other by how we give and receive in this subtle way; and we communicate at multiple levels of relationship. This is my current assumption about us, anyway; so this poem expresses my great desire to tend well to the instrumental noises I'm responsible for ~ for my part ~ whatever may be going on at the other end of each string. I figure that if there is no dissonance at my end, the one at the other end is less likely to attack the string, or utterly neglect it, and we will make better music together ~ whether the making of amends is ever acknowledged or not. Then the mere act of thinking about another is a gift to that person, whether they realize it or not. Then we are not sitting in our cities, looking askance at all the noise we are creating. We become part of its symphony. Thank you for commenting. I'm glad you liked it. :)

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Kumarmani Mahakul 17 September 2017

New green spring emerges in life as a tender perception. Beauty of friendship revives trust with us and God. Lacking scope of vision provokes thought. With tribute story of life grows into arteries. Having universal brotherhood or friendship is nice to have peace across the globe. A brilliant poem is excellently penned and shared...10

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Troy Cochran 18 September 2017

Thank you, Kumarmani. You are truly my bridge to India. Your poem ~ Ten Fingers Work Together ~ is part of the silent backdrop of my poem above. (My reference to the broken finger is the tell-tale sign.) Thanks for your comments and rating. :)

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