PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'm always honored by your: I'm always honored by your presence, great Poet, and it's an added pleasure that you took the time to read with such depth and comment with poetry itself. I loved your insights into my conclusion and the meaning of "home". Thank you kindly for your exquisite feedback.    

I read this a second time: I read this a second time because the first time my head was swirling with so many accolades that I had to dive into it again to appreciate the multifaceted depth of this treasure. It's interesting that you mentioned Van Gogh because I've often read your aesthetically intriguing morsels and felt that they had the impact of an impressionist painting: mood and intricate contemplation translated into the language of beauty.   Here, on an undercurrent of mysterious tranquility, you reflect on the power of art and imagination to bring us "home". Otherwise we are adrift on a monotone, sterile, austere sea of survival, and that is the antithesis of our ingenious, visionary Bard!   Just not enough accolades.     

"and we're always home" wow.: "and we're always home" wow. Brings to mind several things that probably are more intertwined than we would normally allow. Of the proverb about home being where the heart is and the feasible concept of home being our centre, we often look out the window or step onto the porch/patio/verandah and quite relatably scope the weathering, wear and tear, the wounds that hide on the outside but boil and tatter on the inside. Though we venture far and wide enough when we step back but once we realise we are still home. A potpourri of thought and verse and wonderment.

Wonderful: Wonderful imagery of soft fabrics, and a bride left at the altar the cross eyed kiss. I've been watching 19th-century dramas on TV and I picture her in an empire dress not receiving the kiss that she was anticipating lovely. then with the juxtaposition of New York City brings us back to the Contemporary very nice debbie 

Who are you?: U U R.. URE.. SURE? U SURE? U R SURE? URE SURE? U RE-ASURE? U TREASURE? U.S. TREASURE? USE TREASURE?? U SEE TREASURE! U N SEE TREASURE? UNSEEN_TREASURE!  

I most certainly agree with: I most certainly agree with this.

Thank you for the kind: Thank you for the kind reply.  I think back to my undergrad days, to that basement level room in the Library where the Literature and Astronomy books were housed (odd combination, really, yet to poetically significant).  I---on the exterior, an awkward, shy, nerd with a pipsqueak voice; and, interiorly, the starwatcher, eager to absorb as much Poetry as I could, the way astronomers' telescopes gathered starlight---felt frustrated, reading avidly and eagerly about great Poets, but only able to see their achievements has finished totals, complete accomplished achievements.  I wondered, almost obsessively, what it would have been like to watch the poems appear, one by one, in those works.  What would it have been like to read the Georgics without knowing The Aeneid would soon follow; or The Waste Land without anticipating Four Quartets?  But now I understand that those four years were a preparation for now---for the privilege of watching you build your Poetry, one poem posting at a time.  I have been reading your Poetry for approximately three years, reading it in real time and not in a retrospective collection; reading a Poet who is obviously walking the path of Greatness (emphasis on the verb form, walking not walked) . . . right before my astounded eyes.  Two events from my undergrad years are metaphors for this present tense experience of reading your Poetry:  the night I saw Saturn, not as a photograph, but as a present, deep sky object in the Observatory's telescope; and the first time I heard Dvorak's New World Symphony.