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Sunday, September 16, 2012

"Out From You" poem


I’d had a dream of my close friend, Tim, and of Anna, Christy, and me (we’d all been together, hanging out, in the dream).  And in that dream, Christy and I were both artists.  Christy was a heck of a lot better than me.  And Tim had been critiquing both of our artwork for us, both.  And he’d come across this one piece that she’d done that was wonderful that I admired, as well.  And in that dream, that one piece depicted the universe, and a pair of hands holding a heart that had emotional energy depicted as coming free from the heart to represent emotions being freed from someone.  And he’d been critiquing that piece.  And as I was looking at the painted picture in that dream, I’d wished for him that he could free his emotions, and just be, completely.  So, I’d written this poem as though writing to him, directly (that was even before I’d decided to actually show him this poem because I was not sure how he might take or handle this piece having been written).  I’d written this as though wishing to speak to him of that dream and my wish to help him be freed.  I’d had to write it to get it out of my system.  Anyway, here is that poem:
“Out From You”
I look at the artwork
That you critique;
See the art piece that you like
That says so much to me.
That art piece that shows
The Universe
With hands holding a heart
That by time is transversed
That shows feelings from it, set free
As free-flowing energy.
And it makes me think, achingly,
Of if there is a way to set your feelings free
As free as those shown set free
In that art piece.
And it has me wishing I could be the person
To help allow this to be.
I’d like to unlock those feelings
Held so tightly, within
So that you could live, happily,
Once, again,
Instead of in pain, behind a wall
Where you don’t let anyone else in.
I dream of this for you.
But, I don’t know how to break through that wall-
How to open your heart.
Maybe there isn’t a way, at all.
This, I think, as I stare at that painting,
And inwardly cry for you
As you stand, there, next to me
Critiquing that painting with me, too,
In my dream of you.
Author:  April Morone
Date, written:  Sept. 15th, 2012

2 comments:

  1. It's a lovely poem, April, and you have a gift.

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  2. Ty, hon. Very glad you like this poem. Thank you, sincerely, for your compliment. :)

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