I burrow through the snow to wake my senses
in the flurry of warmth pervading out, I am in
the eye of the hurricane, my skin frosted, it
peels into papier-mâché, rising trees out of
sinew, it is comforting to see a new life form
from the dead extravagance I carry forth.
the chill does not affect the mind of a hermit
cross-legged standing for centuries, the fire
of tapas burns within his heart, and I see it
aglow in my third eye, I shake myself as fog
sheds its feathers, ice thaws in puddles of
a hope, murky and shallow, but rippling yet.
I found someone I do not know ahead of me
he is out, yet in, I am alone, yet I’m not.
.
I am so conflicted about the last line. When I wrote it, I was completely fine with it but after when I came back to edit it, my mood was completely transformed. It irks me to see it there.
For dVerse Poetics.
HA's Place 
Gorgeous!
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it is comforting to see a new life form
from the dead extravagance I carry forth
great lines…with multiple meaning…esp like that you make it personal in the dead that you carry…it is nice to finally see that new life in nature letting us know that winter is leaving…but also in our lives….
i also like the spiritual nature of the second stanza…
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I quite like the final line, but if you’re not happy with it edit it out…don’t they say to lose up to three lines? No harm in editing. Great take on the prompt, I enjoyed reading this poem and will revisit.
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We shed dead skin, we cherish the dead loved ones, we eliminate the wastes after extracting what we need from food–yet perhaps, some memories will not, do not expire, but just rot in dark chambers, poisoning some of our reasoning; but we do carry death with us, as a weapon, as a panacea; nice job, HA.
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interesting struggle here… the winter is a good theme for the piece
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A powerfull writing, as usual, the emotions are laid bare and theystrole inside the reader, like a river of liquid smoke. I loved the lines:” it is comforting to see a new life form
from the dead extravagance I carry forth.” – and I also find that the closing lines are perfect, they cut, both the poem and the reader, with a quickened realisation that we have only moved within our imagination. However, your own feelings and satisfaction with a poem is what matters the most!
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With or without those last lines, it is a power poem of resurrection and memories. I read it both ways and nothing is lost by the addition or subtraction of those lines. The ending is up to you and how you want the poem to read. I like it either way.
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This is really wonderful, I love the transformation, and especially the puddles of hope, rippling yet.
I like the last line, perhaps changing it to I am not (rather than I’m not) has slightly better rhythm?
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I think the last lines sound very intriguing. The imagery in the poem is stunning. Loved it.
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I specially admire the first stanza with such stunning imagery:
I am in
the eye of the hurricane, my skin frosted, it
peels into papier-mâché, rising trees out of
sinew
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Ah, burrowing through the snow would definitely awaken one’s senses…in a chilling kind of way.
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Like the unrhymed sonnet…and I think that is a universal problem of writers…second guessing our wording…
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wow… the skin peeling like papier-mâché is amazing… and the chill does not affect the mind of a hermit
cross-legged standing for centuries… those are my favs but overall this is just mindblowing; I wish I wrote this to be honest… smiles.
Also, I like the end – I felt it was very open.
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Well.. i for one love the last line.. as that self i know in me from past coming in and peeping at me.. through times of environmental change like Hurricanes and snow…
The change is meant to be.. the order is not.. the order humans impose on reality can sometimes hide the reality of self…
But anyway.. sounds like a bright awakening and enlightening path of snow to me.. and hope you enjoy more sleigh rides like that in snow high or low..:)
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alone and not – that feeling resonated with me – i sometimes feel like this….my skin frosted, it
peels into papier-mâché, rising trees out of
sinew… loved these lines esp.
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Wow.. The first stanza and the end of the second is very good.. The images and use of snow works so well here. I like the end as it opens up to change.. But it is your poem.
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I am in
the eye of the hurricane, my skin frosted, it
peels into papier-mâché, rising trees out of
sinew…
Loved, loved those lines.
The last line seems fine to me, although perhaps it did slightly confuse me at first. On a second reading, however, it all became clear.
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..love the ‘tapas’ burn within his heart! Excellent write/
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There is always the ‘Edit’ selection.
When I do that though – I always keep both versions.
Your last lines to me reflect or say…There is a guide before me, and I shall be a guide for the next. Just as all things seem to be cyclical.
Moods change how we read ourselves as well as how we read others. Embrace the whole of you. 🙂
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