Echo Of Silence Poem by Seamus O' Brian
Echo Of Silence
This tortuous canyon coiling its jagged edges
razors through the sinewed sediments,
deluvinations of painful fomentations
plowing through acres of rock and soil
and the sinking ache of a heart stranded,
a single boulder brooding over the center
of a stream passing by without a glance.
Ripples of water dancing past, splashing—
or laughing?
When the moan of the wind wanders
through this canyon and presses on,
this vacuum of silence, these remnants
of the memory of your voice, your laughter
drift like the windborne seeds of our
dandelion summers across the sky-pierced
loneliness of what we could never be.
They say time heals all wounds, but
does it not also canyon the fragile
clay of human hearts?
Your answer can never be the echo
of a yes that never was…
When the moan of the wind wanders vacuum of silence scribbles mind more. Sound that is never heard is heard more carefully. An interesting poem is shared here very wisely crafted...10
They say time heals all wounds, but does it not also canyon the fragile clay of human hearts? Your answer can never be the echo of a yes that never was…..Beautiful and touching lines.
Beautiful poem. SEAMUS THANK YOU FOR SHARING MARIO ODEKERKEN
a wonderful poem of remembering nature at it's best written with a sad heart of lost loves nest? .............superbly written.
Neal, Don't know if this is my first or second time with this one, but what stands out When the moan of the wind wanders through the canyon and presses on, the vacuum of silence... This is a vivid picture for me. It brings to mind my experience descending into the Grand Canyon. And this They say time heals all wounds, but but does it not canyon... Canyon is a great verb. Holding first to beauty in this bittersweet existence, Glen
Greetings, Glen! Always good to come back and find your incisive thoughts and responses. Thanks again, and hope that all is well with you! Now that I finally have a respite of time, I will pop over and see what you have been up to. :) S
To me the aftermath of a close relationship resembles a pile of ruins crumbling on the landscape of life. This personal metaphor is my inner shorthand for that difficult loss. I never really see those ruins, but I try to imagine them as picturesque. My image imposes the work of human hands on the landscape, but in your poem, landscape itself speaks to you of what was lost. You read a landform shaped by sedimentation and erosion. For me your poem resonates deeply because it parallels yet contrasts with my own inner image. I give it a 10 and a fave.
Denis, thank you for your very insightful and introspective reply. It is always refreshing to see a piece through the lens of another's experience. I can very much relate to the visual of ruins on the landscape of our own experience. A vivid representation, Denis. Thank you! !
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 12:49:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The echoes of wounded heart expressed so powerfully, in such poetic words ! ! ! This tortuous canyon coiling its jagged edges razors through the sinewed sediments, deluvinations of painful fomentations plowing through acres of rock and soil and the sinking ache of a heart stranded, a single boulder brooding over the center of a stream passing by without a glance. Ripples of water dancing past, splashing— or laughing ?
Greetings, dear Bharati! ! I have been away again, and once more I am delighted to return and find your kind words. Yes, the deeper the impression upon the heart, the more volume there is to draw from. Blessings, my friend!