Words on pages, leaves in air

(...it seems that I DO remember how to post...)
(...and I'm still remembering how to write poems...)
(...wrote this just before my unplanned and inexplicable hiatus...)
(...seemed an appropriate place to start back up...)
(...I think I'm ready to do this again...)

Words on pages, leaves in air

I dreamed that all my words were in a book
and the book was small but very thick
and the book was lost for many years
and i found the book in an empty place 
and when I took the book in my hands
and tried to open it to read the words i had written there
the pages crumbled into dust 
and all my words were lost again
and i had to go out into the world
and find them all again
and all my words were dust 
and i tried to sweep them into a pile 
and i prayed there would be no wind
and i prayed a door would not open or close in that empty place
as i tried to gather my words to myself,
as i tried to clean them up
but my words were dust
and my words were picked up by the wind
and my words were aloft.
They were in the air.
They were all around me 
and they were blowing into the sky
and they would not stop
and they reached out to the furthest reaches of the atmosphere 
and even into space
and they were carried on solar winds 
until time forgot what they were,
until there were too many places they could be 
and too many things they could become
and they became them all
and they became dust
and ash
and leaves

11 thoughts on “Words on pages, leaves in air

  1. yep – you can still conundrumwrite; significant that they were found in an ’empty place’ which was both empty AND Empty – almost like you had to ’empty’ to get in there (you mentioned no entrance except the doors that you feared); it’s riding the wind (carrying the words like leaves) that enables the reading AND the writing, and, some times, there is just no wind (mind you, when there is no wind, it is time to sit, otherwise you are left with Leaves of Grass!?)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This poem is really working on me as I am in a “loss – survival” frame of mind. An intensely marvelous examination of what happens to our words/lives/us/everything once instantiated. The image of dust and all that it can imply e.g. dust to dust, all is dust on the wind, etc, is a thought provoking metaphor. I am particularly drawn to the dichotomy between loss and survival. As I read the conclusion I think “nothing is ever lost…there is only transformation and thereby survival.” Just brilliant jcc.
    I posted this on my FB page — https://www.facebook.com/ronaldshieldspoet?ref=hl

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so much, Ron. I am honored.
      I have been reading your loss/survival posts. I intend to comment, but these things I think require some depth that I have not had much time for lately. It seems that we have much in common in mind.
      “Loss, Survival and Gifts” has been an open tab in my browser for weeks. I will find the time soon.


  3. This reminds me of a repeating dream from my childhood… all my words were written in a think book I was reading. It was a very GOOD book and I knew it was VERY important. I was always so frustrated not to be able to remember the words and stories when I woke up. I wanted to be able to remember the stories and write them down. It was as if they turned to ashes and blew away when I moved from the dream world to the day world.

    I’m glad to hear I am not the only one.

    Well written, my friend.

    Blessings to you and yours.:-)

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I wondered where you were. But one needs to step back from time to time. For my sake, I’m glad you didn’t stay away too long. The poem has a wonderful fable-like quality. It’s even a bit of a journey. Very satisfying.


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