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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/943143-Rewriting-a-Classic
Rated: 18+ · Book · Spiritual · #1149750
A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery.
#943143 added October 10, 2018 at 10:02pm
Restrictions: None
Rewriting a Classic?
I can grow as a writer but not as a person?
Rewrite of "Efflorescence SongOpen in new Window. should show how I can improve as a poet. At least to me. *pats back*

Am I Loved?

My efflorescence sings on the ground.
A loathsome tree leans low to hear
         aching
branches hang
heavy with love's burden
         leaves
unfurl, spiral breathless
fan glory
burst and fade,
tumble
         dutifully
                   down
crumble, feed life back
to the giver.

Am I loved?
Transparent wind, soft
brushes, chafes
the tender skin
Have I lived if I don't
dance amid beauty
and immortality
knowing certain death?
Shall I shine like the song
some lover sent?
Am I loved
if I shelter myself
from heaven's miraculous droplets of clear purity,
knowing
I'm an unrepentant sinner
'til the day I spoil
the ground with my own decay?

Am I loved
if I don't lend my instrument
harmonize with your golden voice
a wholesome symphony
cascading over mountains
to spare my dry,
forgotten valley?

I will stand on my heart just to hear your proclamations
lifted higher by
faintest of nurturing words
gravitate to hopeful heaven
know I will commune with lasting felicity
But,
I am as simple as dirt
pale as death with two pink lungs
ordinary, dull-eyed
a farm hand toiling some hard land
seek shelter, your offer
of refreshing lemonade.

I have known love
of the most immaculent perfection
unlike oily, piteous contempt
in veil slithering about
I tell you
I'm not worthy of you,
return 'heartfelt,' echoing praises
return to sit
on scorched grass
beneath that most withered tree
thriving
on your craggy mount
like thread roots
still yearn
God's tender mercies,
know the most ugly verses
from tongues
peel our bark, lack
true beauty and
the only reward
one man can earn.


...maybe, it's you. No, for sure, it's me. Child of OCD, perpetually distrustful, hesitant, in doubt, unable to break the cycle of life's punitive, unrelenting dramas (my imagination? Get inside my head..been writing about the stigma). Getting there, though. Not coming to my aid? I've hurt you. Maybe, WE have OCD together?

© Copyright 2018 ~Brian K Compton~ (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
~Brian K Compton~ has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/943143-Rewriting-a-Classic