Long Paths Poems
Long Paths Poems. Below are the most popular long Paths by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Paths poems by poem length and keyword.
I walked into a fire
that wasn’t made of flame,
a blaze of doubt and longing
that called me by my name.
It rose from buried questions,
from truths I tried to hide,
from all the dreams I’d quieted
to keep the peace inside.
Its heat was forged of choices,
of paths I didn’t take,
of moments when my courage
fell silent for my sake.
The sparks were old assumptions,
the smoke was worn-out fear,
and every crackling ember
said, You’re meant to stand right here.
I felt it burn around me,
yet nothing turned to ash;
instead the fire revealed me
in one bright, searing flash.
It stripped away the shadows,
the stories I outgrew,
and left me with a fierceness
I never knew I knew.
For metaphorical fire
does not arrive to break~
it comes to heal, to melt the boundaries
we never meant to make.
And when its heat has softened
the walls we built in vain,
with faith we step out of the furnace
more whole than we remain.
Life to be lived
I have realized to appreciate
The heart must answer destiny’s call
And find the courageous steps
To move forward with a goal in mind
Guiding thoughts on paths of inspiration
And pray that love, laughter and pure bliss
Will be the faithful companion by my side
That when days seem dark
And the day’s challenge seems a cold tiding
Will decorate the soul with bright promise
For the dream perched upon the heart
Sings the sweetest melody
So that when the soul listens
Hears the music of tomorrow
And dances to a faith that won’t die
I am no stranger to this world
Where life to be lived and lived fully
The dream must be breathed and embraced daily
If you saw me today -
not that inexperienced 17-year-old woman child
whose summer-fresh face you once caressed -
would you feel again the way
I think we both were feeling at that time?
I like to believe it was love
that gazed back at me then with those dark shining eyes.
But we never said "the words."
Would your eyes still shine to see me again?
In that short time, did you love me?
We took our separate paths.
Sadly, I know not where yours led
or if you still breathe the air of this earth.
If our paths were somehow to cross again,
would you tell me if you had loved me then?
If somehow we met again and were free to be again
what we seemed to have been becoming
had we not just let it slip away. . .
could you tell me in this moment that you loved me?
A poem revised 4/21/19
for Line Gauthier's "What Was Left Unsaid" Poetry Contest
I once lost my thought on the paths of time, like a wandering cloud in the ever-changing sky,
but I found it chained between the pages of a memory, where moments weave garments of longing,
on the road of life, I wandered with my heart full of desires burning like stars in the deep night,
and in the dreams I had, I discovered a drop of your love, like a pearl hidden in the depths of the sea.
When the sun rose at dawn and the shadow of night melted like a forgotten dream at the crossroads of time,
in the world full of the morning's colors, the thought of you was like a free bird in the infinite sky,
under the sky filled with thousands of stars, I searched for you through the labyrinth of memories, seeking the echo of a lost laugh,
but time, with its bittersweet venom, whispered to me that they are just echoes, just shadows of the past.
In my heart, I kept you, like a ray of light piercing the heavy clouds of a rainy day,
and wherever I roamed, you were the hope in a good day, a silent song aligning my wandering steps,
I once lost my thought, but I found it chained in the memory of a moment, where I locked you away,
like a treasure hidden in the chamber of the soul, a secret place where longing turns into poetry.
Thus, in this uninterrupted flow of thoughts and sensations, I carry you with me like a living flame,
for every heartbeat, every breath is a step towards you, towards that realm of eternal love,
where thoughts are not lost but found in the silence before dawn, in the warm light of memories,
and, between dream and reality, between past and present, I weave your image with a fine thread of longing and hope.
For even when time lays its dust over us, and moments melt into the sands of oblivion,
I will always keep you in my heart, like a rare pearl, like an unwritten verse awaiting its utterance,
in this journey of the soul, in this symphony of life, you are and will be my song of longing,
I once lost my thought, but I found it, always chained to you, to the love that binds us.
I am
Wednesday morning trips to the local library with my mom and younger siblings,
Wandering wondrous paths through bookshelves bustling with books.
Exploring, savoring, lingering inbetwixt paragraphs, sentences, words.
Spirited away to a fantasy far from my monotonous world.
I am
Impromptu tea parties, tiny rosy teacups, fitting easily in my tiny, delicate hands.
Drinking creamy green Irish breakfast tea, just like Mommy does,
Sneaking a sip of her nutty coffee, sweetened with brown sugar, lighted to a soft beige,
Giggling and rubbing gritty umber coffee grounds between our palms.
I am
Dancing, twirling, leaping to “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” in honey-sweet memories.
Repeating the same album, thrice over, harmonious Celtic melodies, fueling sappy daydreams.
Cherishing the singing birthday cards I’ve received, their chipper voices piercing my ears,
Gleefully opening and closing their bright covers until their songs are garbled and warped.
I am
Reminded of beauty in the juniper-colored liquid depths of my loved ceramic bear mug,
Kissing his forehead as I sip my favorite Irish breakfast tea, now grown out of creamers.
Strolling through the homely lanes of my memory, a ball of light in my chest.
Seeking her out, and finding that where I look, there she emerges.
I am
Still with my mother.
Carrying her memory, holding it gently, caring for it delicately.
Guided by her hand, her colorful spirit always brightening my smile.
And there she will live on, within me.
There was an opening in the dark
A loud, deep sound forced goosebumps
With eyes lifted on high, what could I see?
Darkness has taken over
We are being deceived, lured, and blindfolded.
Just in a flash, there is a new normality
Normality that seems so true, making it difficult to differentiate.
We move in shackles
The invisible dragging us to a condemned pit.
Oh! Saviour that sees in the dark
You have seen our tears for salvation
There is no time even for the breath that holds us.
Screaming in a soundless voice
Light me up with the message
It is here, and now is the time
The rolling of creation, the strange occurrences
I heard a voice, calling names in turns
Listening keenly is a covenant of redemption
It affirms the message, ‘when you hear my voice, harden not your heart’.
The litany of evil done can be wiped away by the blood
With the last trumpet blow, the blood becomes a blood
This experience can drain life from the soul
It is time, and it is wise to pledge allegiance to the Son through the blood
May the message reveal secrets and unfailing paths.
By: Matthew Deladem
DNA blueprint embalmed in womb,
protoplasm embarks on a journey.....
enigmatic waves crash uncertain shores,
life effuses ...a seed becomes a tree.
A brief stay in a big planet, breathing in and out
fragile dreams race, to reach the summit top.
Crossing paths with family and friends,....
poignant memories heal wounded feelings.
Some hidden stars behind dark clouds...
Some unsung songs composed in heart.
Few poems remain, without an ending...
It's all work, no passion,.Eureka eluding.
A gilded life meanders, in turmoil of past
illusion of happiness, in amusement parks.
A vast field grazed, in unknown fear aghast.
hoping for a future...new things to embark.
Searching the world for a synonym of life,
Worthless wealth is all that we view.
Life asks a riddle "How are you?
Loudly we proclaim, I'm fine, Thank You."
Dated 28th May 2019
Sponsor Chantelle Anne Cooke
Contest Name: The Meaning of Life
How then shall I sleep and dream,
when I close my eyes those scenes stream unabated clip by clip
from memories of the times I wasted?
Youthful follies say the wizened old
who lived in times of long ago when paths were certain
with well-planned markers paved upon the way.
Dreams were simply monsters pushed back into closets
and hidden under beds;
prim and proper ruled the day and eschewed the night,
forgotten whimsies used to frighten wayward children.
Obligations interfered when the storm of you came rushing in
to crash against the breakers on the beach of duty to my class,
with walls of aristocracy preventing breaches ~
There is no room for pauper poets in those mansions
far above the stormy shore.
that day in December I remember—
I sucked on my soaked
tucked-in socks
When I saw you–with a neat p.a.c.k of straw on your b.a.c.k
I beckoned to you—
you came
but my words, you reckoned with—
with shame
ten years on, then our paths
c + r + o + s + s + e + d
again—
your love became my greatest gain
that time
your heart clicked with my chat trick—
we became friends
who ruled the trends
our detractors
g . u . t . t . e . d
our foes
d . i . s . g . u . s . t . e . d
we married—
our love marred their pride and plots
now twenty-two years
and our love is still
p l e n t i f u l—
with two
b r i g h t
c ~ h~ i ~ l ~ d ~ r ~ e ~n too~
who make our joy
b o u n t i f u l
our haters lie shattered in
s ~ m ~ i ~ t ~ h ~ e ~ r ~ e ~ e ~ n ~ s
and our r a n g e of friends has c h a n g e d over time
even better for our h•o•r•s•e
more than u??s, it has
m•e•t•a•m•o•r•p•h•o•s•e•d—
from a n o s e y friend
to now a n o i s y one
its sorrow u-n-r-a-v-e-l-e-d each time we t-r-a-v-e-l-e-d
when it grew t—h—i—n, with few t—h—i—n—g—s to eat
we have t.r.a.n.s.f.o.r.m.e.d through
many love s.e.a.s.o.n.s for many r.e.a.s.o.n.s—
that sculpted us into better lovers
we are now two jolly f~e~l~l~o~w~s
who f~o~l~l~o~w love's dictates—
and we are,
today
b-e-t-t-e-r
for it
We navigate life's stanza's quirky rhyme,
as through obscuring fog we strain to see
two well worn roads on the landscape of time.
One leads through the mist of what's yet to be,
revealing lofty mountains we will climb,
and a grown prince and princess, you and me.
Images, sometimes false and sometimes true,
we discern what will be of me and you.
Another lane shows places we have been,
where airy mem'ries float and waft through trees.
We play the sweet game of remember when,
and in the time it takes to sneeze,
we wish to do it all over again
as reminiscence floats off in the breeze.
Right here, these two paths cross under the sun,
and this grand time is now, my special one.