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Barely a ripple.
Smooth to the touch.
Overlooked for its plainness;
held in oneâ€™s clutch.
Released in a moment,
with just enough spin;
skimming the surface,
its return seems grim.
Calm gives way.
abated at the break of day.
Beseeching of each passerby;
lustrous as a precious gem.
Simplistic form of nature,
once more chosen to be skipped again.
| Stones I threw with love that way.||| Posted on 2016-05-27 00:00:00 | by poetotoe | [ Reply to This ] || Thank you both for the comments. The poem is simply about skipping rocks. Ever wonder what happens to the rock once you release it into the sea? Does it tumble back to shore, glistening wet, inviting someone to pick it up and throw it again? That's what I think happens...||| Posted on 2016-05-12 00:00:00 | by Janesaddiction | [ Reply to This ] || Beautiful imagery, but I had a hard time understanding the poem as well. It could be one of those poems you only understand if you have had that experience though. ||| Posted on 2016-05-11 00:00:00 | by ilovepuppies | [ Reply to This ] || Had to read this one twice last night and once today just to concoct something and dish it out...|
Truthfully, I didn't get much out of it. It took a lot of thinking for me to visualize the poem's ultimatum - Which I can't even be sure of. What I do keep in mind, though, is that I've never been a good interpreter.
What I see here is sort of a riddle, like you've gotta get into this omnipresent vibration and flow with it to understand what this "precious gem" is. If it shines so bright, why do people ignore it? What people are they and why?
Is it love? Is it compassion? Is it each to one's own?
That's as far as I can get: Questions.
|| Posted on 2016-05-11 00:00:00 | by MyPeriodical | [ Reply to This ] |