Droplets 2

[ellajam]

What a fine piece this is.

Here are a few notes:

Droplets

I know not from what source you and I sprang forth.
We surfaced from the lost collected depths
of long past falls, or melted and dripped
from crystal spires of ancient ice on high, Beautiful opening
where we glistened in the ceiling of the sky. "ceiling of the sky" may push it a bit
Perhaps we were wished to exist
by chill settling summer morning mist, this line was a little sticky to read and say, although that doesn't make it bad
or spilled from rolling hills those before us built. I don't usually think of rolling hills as built
I am not troubled by from whence we bubbled.
We flow together in but one direction. I'm not sure about whence, but these two lines are lovely

I care not on what choppy courses again, beautiful opening lines
uncontrollable forces have driven you to me,
or what you carry from pools of cruel pollution.
In muddied waters we are a solution.
I will not judge regrets left in rocky seams. I like "rocky seams"
The banks of both our youthful streams
are littered with leaves of hopeful dreams.
I do not understand the torrents
you've journeyed through; nor do I ask you to.
We flow together in but one direction.

I am concerned only with to where we rush. the speed of the poem picks up here, well done
Run with me to sculpt the future's landscape.
From unseen cliffs we will soar
and cast rainbows amidst the tumbling roar. not a big fan of "rainbows"
Swelled with rains we will burst, and flood,
and course the veins of cracked and broken mud.
The ripples of life pulse within our blood.
And where our forebears meandered,
we will carve through and drown their bends.this makes sense, but not my favorite line
We will move mountains, we will move men.
And at the end we will gurgle and foam
and sift amongst breathless sands;
Not yet of the ocean, no longer bound to land.
Held and ebbed by the same ceaseless tide
and swallowed by the vast forgetful brine.
We're remembered only in the path left behind. for me this conflicts with the earlier lack of need to know the past
So let us cast adrift our silts, drown our imperfections, I'm not sure about casting silt, maybe let it settle.
that truly we might flow together in but one direction.

I think this poem is fabulous, all the comments are made in the spirit of the workshop, just points you might want to think on.

Thanks so much for posting this, it is a joy to read and recite. Well done.