The Writer's Voice

The World's Favourite Literary Website

Love's Parable/Life's Parody

by

Jim Ciccolini

Far off in the distance I can see a coming light;
in another time zone, sunrise casts away the night.
Around me is darkness; to the east, the sky is bright;
here, alone, I watch and wait in the depths of twilight.

I see the countless stars of many a distant world-
the treasures of their sunbeams not mine to be unfurled.
Images of mystery, on the sky, are muralled
while, in my mind, thoughts of curiosity are swirled.

I vaguely see reflections of unforgotten rays
reminded by the glowing moon's reminiscent grays.
This must be the reason that the hounds unleash their bays-
in wistful recollection of long-abandoned days.

The sun is creeping closer; its warmth I now can feel;
the pangs of distant memories now begin to heal.
Horizon's changing colors: from black, to red, then teal.
The hope of this fresh morning imbues me with new zeal.

I restlessly awaited until this dawn arose
since the time yesterday's light came to a final close.
Gazing sadly westward, I wrote poetry and prose
steadfastly yearning for the sounds of the roosters' crows.

Radiant gleams of sunlight now fall upon this page;
solar enlightenment grants the wisdom of a sage.
This warmth which I bask in sets me far beyond my age;
the energy given forth is without earthly gauge.

Yet, with this coming glory, is an apprehension.
How much longer than before will last Light's redemption?
Could this brilliance be beyond my soul's comprehension?
Can I gaze upon it, not risking contravention?

The only hope I have for finding sanctuary:
to learn the source of warmth and be not long to tarry.
When I'm sure the light is right; that day shall I marry
and pray that life leaves me before the heat is nary. 

I've seen the sun rise four different times in my past,
and each experience was far greater than the last.
Some had lasted years, while, still, some others went by fast.
Some gave me strength and hope while others left me aghast.

So what, now, should I expect; what more is left to come?
Can I, now, appreciate that warmth which left me numb?
Will I, this time, absorb the rays of which I am from?
or will there be so much to say that I am left dumb?

Only time will tell; I will not forecast what lies west
but merely hope and pray that what waits is for the best.
If or when I've completed this long and gruelling quest,
in serenity, my spirit will be left to rest.

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work

All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.