Lonely Man of Leaves
but only a real person can speak forever to the rest of us
― Katherine Vaz, The Green Man: Tales from the Mythic Forest
A long time,
Darker
Than night clouds
Around the Moon;
Empty
As a wooden pail
Splintered
Upon the patio,
Unable to hold water
But now filled
With black leaves;
I think that pail
Is happier
Than me.
My arms
Emptier
Than leafless trees,
And nothing fills me…
Not even black leaves.
That is superb, John.
Thanks, lydon - it's a necessary part of creating - to be empty at times, but I hate the feeling
Yesterday I was telling you how we could be trees without leaves, @johnjgeddes. In this analogy that you make of the wooden cube and the person, the idea of solitude and empty hands becomes clearer. The human being, sometimes, can feel how that useless and old container that there is in the house, which is not necessary, looks like him. There are days when life falls like a drop of rain in a hole, other times it is the storm that floods you. Feelings come like this: dosed and in large quantities. Nice night for you.
Thanks Nancy - yes, your remark inspired me - well, that and a walk in the woods today and ruminations about Pan and creativity - being emptied in order to be filled
Loneliness and emptiness are feelings that torment and persecute. Many times we are surrounded by many people, but deep down it is as if we were alone; nothing complements or satisfies. Perhaps it is that we are not really good containers of feelings or affections, we are not empathic, but we demand to be full of themselves. Great greetings, friend @johnjgeddes.
That's a very interesting comment on the poem, @aurodivys. I will have to meditate upon that. Thank you
Very beautiful and good poetry is written that you have the best and you wrote the above quate
Thanks