a grasp away
A figure, stern and cold,
receives a laurel leaf with surprise.
No introduction, no warmth exchanged
. . . just the reality of presence
the edge of diffidence . . .
The leaf, tender and green
rests lightly in their hand
a symbol of honour, unspoken worth.
In its quiet embrace,
a connection begins to form;
bridging the divide of understanding.
The caustic words, the guarded heart,
begin to soften in the face of one gesture.
The laurel invites a new beginning,
a chance to be seen, to be known
beyond the barriers of silence.
Flyntland
Thu 9th Jan 2025 14:04
I love the gentle grace of this poem, it has a calming appeal. I feel there is something reassuring about it.
or did I read it wrong?
Thank you for it.
I have just read your 'Admonitions for a Young and Emerging Poet' you put a lot of thought into it and it is relevant to all of us
both young and old. Thank you for that too.