Gold Morning

grass in sunlight

Sahara sand in morning mist
Lays a vanilla sail in the sky
Gold dust on flagstone.

What Bedouin dreams
Fall gently on the grass?

 The grass bends and answers
a sigh laced with regrets
slides softly and whispers:

I woke up today
But my Maryam didn’t.

Companion to my soul
Shadow of my heart
Why did I not hold you?

Wife of my youth
Partner of my days

I thought I had time…
O to touch you once more
And watch your eyes close.

Photo credit: JetSetWilly / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Photo credit: JetSetWilly / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
This entry was posted in Conversation, Life, Poesie, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

15 Responses to Gold Morning

  1. Mike says:

    A poignant and wistful lament. Nice work.

    Like

  2. PapaBear says:

    “I thought I had time…
    O to touch you once more
    And watch your eyes close”…
    How many times have I thought those thoughts, said those words…? …if only…
    Beautifully written, Emm. You choreographed the emotion perfectly.

    Like

    • emmylgant says:

      Thank you Paul. It is a universal grief, and yet so very personal and unique because no one can feel it but the sufferer. We can only witness it with compassion and empathy.

      Like

  3. The mysteries of the wind, the desert and the heart interwoven in a tapestry of extraordinary beauty.
    You surpass yourself.

    Like

  4. arjaybe says:

    My beloved is away now. You made me feel, “What if she didn’t come back?” What would I feel the next time I see dust in the sky or at my feet?

    Thanks.-)

    rjb

    Like

  5. Willy Nilly says:

    Beautiful, Em. You capture a piercing regret softened with a sweet memory.

    Like

    • emmylgant says:

      Thank you Willy. We are so strange holding back love to protect our heart from breaking, thinking we can postpone giving and hurt. Sometimes it’s just too late.

      Like

      • Willy Nilly says:

        Yes, Em, and so often the case it makes me believe its a unique human trait, to withold in another’s presence and release in their absence. I suppose it’s this trait that gave birth to poetry and the Muses of Zeus and Mnemosyne.

        Like

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