Poem Hunter
Dream Of Beauty
SI (5/7/1991 / Argentina)

Dream Of Beauty

Poem By Samiha Issacs

Dark clouds, soft mist. Easy breeze, light drizzle. Sun peaks through endless

trees beyond sight. The feel of soft grass between toes. The light smell of rain

traveling through the scented air. Lost in a trance; a dream. Fireflies scorching

through waters of glistening soft waves. Light sounds of various birds

surrounding the silent midnight sky. The mind wonders in astonishment, and in

joy of the things its witnessing. Simply surpassed by the realism of life. Branches

continue to dance amongst the endless skies above. Waterfalls of soft white

clouds pour but without a sound, and reaches the delicate green patches below.

Alone with only a notion of sanctuary, and of hope. Tall trees whispering,

“Hush, hush”, for total silence amongst all being. Brisk leaves crunching beneath

the. A galaxy of rainbow colors and creatures lurking in hollow spaces. A fire;

cracking delusional flames while the open mind and body pass the silent hints of

cold pouring through each nerve.

Then, the sight of a young rose just beginning to patiently bloom; opening up to

the quick bound world of life. Slowly, petals form small droplets of water as it

allows itself to unfold and face the senses of all else. Never to retrieve its look,

never to fail or become frail: but to take the beautiful chance of life. Beginning

to grow more and more within the few seconds of its awakening. It’s long stem

bursting out of its roots and evolving within the quick blinks of an eye.

Wrapping around the endless trees above. A rush of cold breeze suddenly

surrounds the air. And as this dream-like galaxy becomes faint, the now elder

rose is giving out, growing slow and weak. It’s radiant red-white petals falling

to the far-sited ground below. All creatures watching curiously as the flower

retrieves its bloom to an entirely altered behavior. Suddenly, every silent

whisper, every creature and being, every breeze, all else entirely, becomes silent.

No sounds, no motions. Just dream; the dream of beauty.

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Comments (1)

thanks for sharing with us. its a lovely piece.