An occasional stumble is seasonal to the course
And trees shed their leaves in the same light as fall
And the winds on occasion bend trunks
Why have elasticity if not to be used
Why have instinct of reaction
And not know stumble to stand
But don't let me fall
And land not on my feet
Or go so low, that I can't stand
Don't break my crystal
With crimson bleed
What treasure I have, even on my grave
Don't steal my pride and unplug my feathers
Don't look for my fall and say you are a friend
And let me down, and stand on my fall
Beautiful write...brilliant opening line...
ReplyDeleteA wonderful read. You have captured the emotion behind the plea quite nicely.
ReplyDeleteNo one should stand on another's fall. I like this.
ReplyDelete=)
indeed beautiful....thanks for sharing
ReplyDeleteI love the lithe, flowing quality of your word combinations. It makes a nice counterpoint to the 'stumbling' imagery. Thank you for sharing, Kodjo. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteAnd the winds on occasion bend trunks
ReplyDeleteAnd bending is better than breaking, eh?
"Why have elasticity if not to be used" How true.
ReplyDeleteThis was beautiful and wrote with such a mature and seasoned poet (it seems to me) I enjoyed reading such depth and beauty!
ReplyDelete~L
I see sadness in this,
ReplyDeletea powerful warning.
best wishes.
An amazing interpretation of The Mag. Bravo!
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]