[Critique Group 2] Leonards comments on Joan's piece for Jul 20

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Death




 


The seasons willreveal themselves,



One glittering wingat a time



As they drape theworld in  purple and black.



Here death is seneas  winged creatures. 




 


Great mysterieswill  swoop down,



Hover  over uslike a storm



Until we find theway inside.



That hovers over usuntil we find a way to be with them. 




It is always there. 




Always near.  




‘we are alwayslooking for a way to join them in their great mysteries.




 


Still I crave dewySeptember grass,



Air laced withsoul-speckled clover,



Whispered mists andNovember rain.



But it willcome in its own good time. 



There is nohurry. ‘



the writerreminds us to enjoy life in all its seasons.




 


The seasons willreveal themselves



Here beside mybeloved



With no regard forchapel bells and baggage claim tickets.



Life  will revail itself in all its trujth 



without regard toour preoccupation with the details of life, 



and of theindividual seasons



.  Including those parts of it that have to dowith mortal love.




 


I am merely a child



Pedaling  mybrokenness into the fog



To prove the ways ofLove.



She is likea  broken child  on her way to the  inevitable death.  



She  is there to prove her ways of love 



in the gettingthere. 



So that is themeaning of the journey . 



How does oneexpress love during it. 



This is a poemabout the progression of life from the cradle to the grave  



in which thewhole purpose is to demonstrate how love is played out 



in the journey..





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