Poetry / The Light of Hope (Analysis)
Echoes of grief flow from the Soul, she wails.
Interesting that some of us can’t feel it.
Reverberating in my chest, my heart beats faster, fearing for its life.
I look to find the light of Hope, far off, but still twinkling, a star among blackness.
There! I see it! I am alive!
Look there brothers. Look there sisters. Look for that twinkle. It is alive.
Living we have intruded upon the great house of the Soul.
We originated as part of it, grew to resent Her, broke our ties and proceeded to break Her.
Conquer and subjugate, a motto of ours that all have lived by,
Searching for the poison black tea, so popular in our day.
We have poisoned the Soul, we must administer some antidote.
Some have realized, however late, our torture of the Soul.
We hear her wails; we feel her pain, and watch things die around us.
We reach for that light of Hope, how gracious Hope is, never asking for a favor in return.
We grasp Hope and hold it to our breasts.
Arise!
We will stop this foolishness now and become whole with Her once more.
And she will present us with wonders not seen since we arrived and put them out as old candles.
We must work hard first to arrive again.
“Work together,” She whispers feebly, lying on her dying bed, a pillow of blackness and stars.
“You can do it,” She encourages as some continue to beat Her in her frail state.
I say now is the time when those who wish to return to Her, return to ourselves, rise up.
Don’t wish for change. Be the change.
Stop those who are wrong. Praise those who are right. Halt the train ride to Collapse.
Come together, work as the other creatures do, and feel the freedom and reward that this can
bring.
“Nurse me back to health,” She whispers, “I cannot do it on my own anymore.”
She points to Hope; O glorious Hope.
I have it. I know it. I hold it. I keep it.
Look to yourself, Hope is there, not in some far off land.
Look to your Soul; it hides in the folds of Being, long forgotten.
Coax it out, embrace it, hold it up with others.
We have Hope!
We have power now.
Power to be the change that is so desperately needed.
There! We see it! We are alive!
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Love the imagery in this poem. Very dramatic and highly publishable ;-)
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This is a good start. Try taking all the stuff you are telling me in this piece and instead, let me experience it with images instead. Check your grammar; it is important in poetry too.
The line, “There! I see it! I am alive!” seems like it would fit better at the end.
Let go of the wish for change be the change line, it is cliché.
I’ve read this a few times now, and I understand your intention. I can appreciate your passion and depth. You drive the poem with that passion, and it’s a good thing. There’s an inspirational poem buried somewhere in here, I can feel it, but I just don’t see it yet.
You’ve got a heck of a pageant happening. It’s big and cosmic and Biblical, and the end of a spiritual anthem. Aside from the overall message, I feel it’s much too big to stand on its own, and it’s collapsing under its own weight. That’s not to say it can’t be revised, but that depends on what your intention is.
As it is, this would be a great poetic flourish at the end of a sermon. It would also be a great way to sculpt lyrics for a song. But in order for it to be poetry, it has to be intimate enough to engage us or challenge us, conceal as much as it reveals, expose some kind of truth, and allow for interpretation of meaning through symbol or language. Truthfully, a poem can be anything it wants to be, but for it to be great or something seen as art, using a less-is-more approach will serve you better.
I’d suggest that you think about what you want this to be and go from there. If you want this to be a living and breathing poem, then try reconstructing this by keeping it simple. You can express multiple meanings even in the simplest acts. Think about the miracle of saving a person’s life, how paramedics do it every day—you save a life, you save a soul. By focusing the description of saving one life, you can make a larger statement about saving humanity’s collective soul without hitting your reader with a galactic brick.
I’d love to know if you take another stab at this—I think you can make this into something very special.
Best of luck,
Byron
“Conquer and subjugate, a motto of ours that all have lived by, ” – nice line
“She whispers feebly, lying on her dying bed” – do you mean deathbed – or maybe “bed of dying”? ”dying bed” is a little different, although that may be exactly what you mean…
very good… “nurse me back to health, she whispers” – love that…
i read this first thing in my morning… it gave me a smile… very uplifting in its way…
i really have no criticisms… i truly enjoyed it…
Very inspirational! Wouldnt change it at all! Well done and keep going!
The poem is so dramatic, and it practically reads itself, but I thought it would be best for a poetry reading or slam, or maybe a musical treatment. The central image of hope and darkness struggling to influence the condition of the oversoul is plausible. The language use, form, and flow of the poem are beautiful.
Definitely inspiring. Love the flow. Even more so the meaning that seemed to make it flow as it does. i wrote a piece to inspire myself a couple of years ago. If you would like to see it I will let you.
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