fading
purple flowers
lie softly
plush
stitching
old
old
knees
and
infant fingers
s t r e t c h i n g
in jagged space
to smooth
incongruous
cheeks
like
paper
drawn with lines
and
finely
etched madness
in
eyes too full
of
sunlight dreaming
Sunlight Dreaming
Posted byThe Silver PoetPosted inUncategorizedTags:age, art, body, death, dreaming, heaven, poetry, release
Published by The Silver Poet
I AM a little spark in the sea of conscious awareness. I am passionate about bringing the concept of freedom of expression into the forefront of our one mind and a keen awareness of personal power to the hearts of little children everywhere. I exist to express! View more posts
Silver Poetry 
All sunlight dreamers should read this, far from the blanket madness that obscures our natural light. Bless you Silvery OneX
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Thankyou gorgeous xxx
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It’s like a web! Both in the rythym of the language and in its physical structure…
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oh wow very interesting observation! I love it when wonderful readers like yourself inspire me to go back and re-read my words xxxx
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Fascinating image you create with your words…I was seeing a young child tracing the wrinkles on a grand parents face as one image.
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oh beautiful…. i was thinking of the grandmother reaching up to touch her own face….
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Never expected the ending, it kept me stretching too~lovely with delicacy ~Blessings friend ~Deborah
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thankyou… i never know whats coming next in my poetry!
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I imagined the inner child of an elderly lady tracing the lines on her face in wonderment. How did this happen?
Finely etched madness. Perfection.
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exactly! you have it!
are you a figment of my mind…? an aspect…. a kaleidoscope of loveliness?
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Magical
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xx thankyou
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A lovely picture for the mind!
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it does something to me this concept… makes now so eternal or something…
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That sounds right to me, too!
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This takes me in so many different directions. I can see the old woman, the infant and the flower all as part of the same being, the same subject.
I think because it is now autumn up here in the northern hemisphere that I keep seeing overlaps between the young and the old, the leaves and the flowers and the animals and people who move among them.
I also got an image of a quilt here:
fading
purple flowers
lie softly
plush
stitching
old
old
knees
and
infant fingers
s t r e t c h i n g
even though I know that the poem moves on to the subject touching her own face. But for a moment there I saw another intergenerational activity. . . .
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I am in awe of the fragility of the old and the young and how it encompasses the strength we all need to survive… and how even death is illusory as it is impossible to lose anything important on this earth… where would it go? everything just changing form again and again….
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Reblogged this on The Sand County and commented:
This poem knows what timelessness means.
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you are a darling wonder! thank you for sharing me around xxx
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Wow. Your name is well-deserved.
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Thankyou… i cheekily gave it to myself in the hope that I could live up to it!
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Doing pretty well I must say.
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🙂
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