Searching for Love by Arthur L Wood - Original Poem

Поділитися
Вставка
  • Опубліковано 2 гру 2024

КОМЕНТАРІ •

  • @ketketzer4075
    @ketketzer4075 Місяць тому +4

    moving and wonderful. A whispered sense of Donne and Rimbaud? Very much enjoyed "like a bee upon a stem" and And I’m staying still
    Dictating all the motions of my will.

  • @lynnelangley3003
    @lynnelangley3003 Місяць тому +4

    Oh this is just amazing and so beautiful. xx

  • @rosiejack9069
    @rosiejack9069 Місяць тому +3

    Superb 😊

  • @MichaelLieberChannel
    @MichaelLieberChannel Місяць тому +2

    Illuminating

  • @exildoc
    @exildoc Місяць тому +2

    New poem, new look! I like either much

  • @poesiadequinta
    @poesiadequinta Місяць тому +3

    Amazing poem, mate! New book coming?

  • @andreafisherwriter
    @andreafisherwriter 10 днів тому +1

    So beautiful. My English mum and I were searching for poems read by Alan Rickman. How lucky I feel to stumble upon your readings and your poetry. Your words arrive like notes of music- know that you are bringing beauty and inspiration to many corners of the earth and those who find your readings are truly grateful.

    • @ArthurLWood
      @ArthurLWood  9 днів тому

      Thank you. Glad you like the poems.

  • @ArthurLWood
    @ArthurLWood  2 місяці тому +5

    I was searching for love,
    In the place a wiseman said was the land of death;
    Then I felt myself evolve
    In the exhalation of my purest breath;
    Now I’m moving on,
    For the world could do with a touch of my mother’s son.
    I went down to the crossroads,
    I got down on my frail bended knee,
    And I saw how the world,
    Was exactly as it was supposed to be;
    Now I’m heading south,
    While a northern breath still whispers in my mouth.
    I threw myself to devils,
    I fought them off without a single blow,
    For the lord of all the angels
    Is dwelling in my immortal soul;
    And I’m staying still
    Dictating all the motions of my will.
    I am searching for no one,
    I am burning in the pits of the biggest fire,
    Colder than a maggot,
    And crueler than the wind of dark desire,
    Like a bee on a stem,
    On the heart of all time’s oblivion,
    I am living forever,
    As I find the way into my father’s home,
    Where I’ll weave a pale garment
    And dance my hair through a golden comb;
    I spy a boat on the sea,
    And another leaf falling from the dying tree.