Whisper - Original Poem
It's but a whisper that looks back
To trace its steps,
To throw the doors wide open
Come what may, but it recoils
A Siamese narrows its eyes
A shadow or a prey
Within its grasp
It's all in jest, in play
The doors, they swing so heavy
After years of not being used
Light through the cracks
The creaky floor
The footsteps in the dust,
Used to be snow
The Siamese, long gone,
Recoils no more.
It's but a whisper that looks back
To trace its steps
Searching for home.
Feeling a tad melancholy today, so this seems fitting. Thanks for reading, whoever chooses to do that :-)
Isle of Write Logo and Footer done with love by the lovely @pegasusphysics
Want to join a fantastic community of creatives of all kinds? Drop by the Isle. Click the treasure map below to join us on discord.
Very nice piece. You paint a vivid picture.
Thank you @sgtechservices. Much appreciated.
You're welcome.
I love the color of your words. Melancholy is right!
Can't wait to read more of your poetry!!
And I love your lovely comment @caleblailmusik
blushes I try :P
Awesome use of personification and symbolism in the entire poem, but I especially like how you use the classic symbol of a door here. You created a metaphor that is so weighted with meaning.
I'm just glad I managed a metaphor :-)
What a bully, that Siamese. I wonder if choosing one that is black and white, half-shadow, even more than the standard cat's lash, is a conscious choice. Or whether it speaks to the black and white nature of faded pictures. Or, just a cat.
You call it "whisper", and I know of old that many prefer the system of "The Fruitful Void," where the most important aspect of a story, of a game, is never mentioned, and it shines on all through its absence, and through the spokes it sends out.
This is about memory, a faded one. I wonder how the piece would read if I simply were to switch the two words. Though that misses the option of whisper to convey not merely memory, but the memory of a memory. And that feels to me like what the story is truly about: The steps return home, but even the shadow-cat is no longer there. Even the memory cannot remain true.
No memory is ever true, I think @geekorner. No account of one objective, if you will, especially not our own. I'm going to mull over your comment....
Very melancholy and sad. Evokes memories of my old cat that passed away years ago. :(
Oh man. Sorry @negativer. The kitty here was incidental :-)
At the time, there was a lot of talk by my mom about the 'rainbow bridge' that pets use to 'get to the other side' after they pass; your last stanza kind of fell into that memory for me.
Hugs, man. Harders thing for us to lose our critters. And whatever you do, don't read my post from yesterday or whatever with a kitten in the pic. Not that that one is about a kitten either, but damn, man. Sorry.
No apologies needed, of course. Any excuse for me to remember a loved pet is a good thing. I think sometimes we forget the things we love too easily; those holes in us get filled by something else too quickly, usually by something much less significant.
Ain't that the truth. sigh
I definitely felt this piece. I love the lines :
Wistful and, yes, melancholy. <3
Thank you, @shawnamawna....