Muse for Monday

MantraThis evening’s offering is in keeping with my style. Mantra had very little to do with this one. I hope you enjoy this poem which bears the simple title Wandering.

Wandering

One foot after the other
Seems so simple, doesn’t it?
Well, then, why, pray tell, can’t I?

I stepped off the path somehwere
Without realizing it.
I’m left questioning, “Just why

Did I not return to the path?”
Maybe, it was the soft grass
Tickling the soles of my feet.

Or perhaps the wafting breeze
Sweeping cool across my skin
Gently caressing my cheek.

Some days, I hear the flowers
Whispering to the fauna
Choosing to be a friend.

For so long I have tarried
From the searing hot pavement
Until I had forgotten

The boulder of loneliness
Originally blocking
The path, the light and the way.

But off in the far distance
Something utters to my soul
To return there straight away.

Maybe, it is the luscious,
Lingering aroma of
Your touch, strong when I’m alone.

Or is it the still small voice
Of childhood so far removed
I had forgotten its tone?

Perhaps it is the visage
Of someone waiting to meet
Me beyond the dark’ning rock

With hand outstretched to take mine
And arms open to receive,
Quell and conquer this fear’s block.

As I set foot on the road,
Instantly, it all returns.
Soothing sounds quickly silenced.

Warmth of light on holiday.
Familiar smells blown away.
Its presence here I have sensed.

Melancholy envelope,
Sealed with solitary time,
Encases my lonesome soul.

One foot after the other,
Along the lonesome highway
Never again love to hold.

120420121917


Which of your senses makes you remember the most? Is there a particular sight, smell or sound which reminds you of another time? Does this poem speak to you? If so, what does the poem say?

© Red Dwyer 2012
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25 Comments

  1. I wandered off the path so long ago I don’t even know where it is.
    Binky recently posted..Ingredients of LifeMy Profile

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  2. so poignant, wistful… I too wandered off the path..
    This is beautiful Red… simply beautiful. Lizzie. <3
    Lizzie Cracked recently posted..Monday Huh? Mid-Afternoon Mental MomentMy Profile

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    • Red

       /  April 17, 2012

      Thank you, Lizzie. I tend to stay off the path. It is far more entertaining to cross it only to go off on the other side 😉

      Reply
  3. Taking the road less traveled???? I don’t think I’m aware of what really brings up memories, just every once in a while one will hit me. I imagine it is a mixture of things.
    Angela recently posted..Just do something!My Profile

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  4. When I’m in the peaceful quiet of the woods, it brings up wonderful childhood memories. Memories of summers spent sitting by the creek fishing, squirrel hunting in the fall and rabbit tracking in the winter. Why did I have to grow up? As for the meaning of the poem, maybe, the wistful memories of a love and lifestyle that you lost or kicked to the curb. You know that you are so in-depth that I can’t keep up. Still love ya though. Keep up the good work, Grant

    Reply
    • Red

       /  April 17, 2012

      You were closer with your memories. This is about coming of age and remembering why you did not want to grow up. When I wrote this, the rock was adulthood. Glad it brought back some fond memories for you.

      Reply
      • While I enjoy and delight in reading your writings, sometimes when I “dig deep” I question your play on words from my perspective. How, from your perspective, is Adulthood a “boulder of loneliness”? Maybe it’s an extension of childhood? When you lose friends you sink back into your shell? I don’t know. I personally have never been alone since I’ve become an adult. Friends, wife, children, other’s children. Sometimes I wish that I had some alone time. Some “ME” time. Fishing, camping, hobbies and even some “fun” carpentry. I’m interested in hearing your perspective. God Bless You, Grant
        Grant Helms recently posted..How to get more page views for your blogMy Profile

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        • Red

           /  April 18, 2012

          You are mistaking proximity for company. It is possible to be completely alone in a room full of people. See Breaking the Backbone and All By My Lonesome for more explanation.

          Hence, the impenetrable boulder of innocence lost. Adulthood overshadows enjoyment of some activities, while providing a different, albeit unequal, replacement. The past, when viewed around it, is distorted by the jaded and cynic shadow it casts. Some days, it blocks the view of the past, while other days it blocks what we see in the future.

          Reply
  5. Very beautiful, Red! Very well written!
    Hugs, xx
    Deb recently posted..Charcoal Drawings: PepperMy Profile

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  6. I have not trouble believing your leaving the path. To your own self be true. Yep, the adventurer, the curious one.

    Reply
    • Red

       /  April 17, 2012

      There are just so many fun things off the path! I rather like chasing butterflies 😉

      Reply
  7. This is beautiful, Red. You are a far better poet than you realize. IMHO, the sense of smell is by far the most potent reminder of the past and works instantly. The smells along the paths we walk in reality are very significant and powerful.
    Raymond Alexander Kukkee recently posted..O is for Opportunistic ObfuscationMy Profile

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    • Red

       /  April 17, 2012

      I know it is for me. I have a really keen sense of smell, which is odd because I smoke. I can pick out ingredients in food, which remind me of other things. I hope I never lose that. My hearing I have done without for years. I do not miss it the way I would if I could not smell.

      And thank you very much, Ray.

      Reply
  8. Smell

    The poem said to me: Red writes oustanding poetry. I especially love the sealed envelope with solitude (solitary time).
    lorrelee1970 recently posted..More poetry recycled for your use…..My Profile

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    • Red

       /  April 18, 2012

      Smell is mine, too. LOL! To me, it speaks of contortionism…I wrangle free-style prose into a quiet rhyme pattern 😉 I like that image as well. Solitude never seems free-flowing, like a cloak. It almost always feels like an envelope….think paper cuts.

      Reply
  9. This speaks of love and memories
    all combining in the richness of the
    inner core…

    As always your poetry pushes the
    thought processes into an infinite
    climb, soaring the heavens and in
    doing so touches upon the strands
    of imagination…

    A wonderful poem my great friend…

    Androgoth XXx

    Reply
    • Red

       /  April 20, 2012

      I like the recall of this one, even if the memories are a mixed bag.

      Reply
  10. Hi Red,

    This is beautifully written and this verse is breathtaking…
    “Some days, I hear the flowers
    Whispering to the fauna
    Choosing to be a friend.”

    It’s nice to meet you and I found you through Deb, she is one of my favorites in blogland…I look forward to reading more of your work, as well. Lauren 🙂

    Reply
    • Red

       /  April 29, 2012

      Good to meet you, Lauren. If you like poetry, try the two tabs beneath the header…Muse for Monday and Mantra’s Poems. There are many of them lying around 😉 Stop by the Green Room (top menu bar) and leave a link to your blog so the M3 Readers can find you as well!

      Reply

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