That fight and struggle between nature and progress in the natural world, the struggle in our own life as we to sell out to progress, we once enjoyed freedom of ourselves and now we are beneath the structures of culture and society. we at one time had a natural way to breathe in our self worth and goals, now sadly life makes us take shallow breaths and live beneath others. I don't know what you were feeling or reaching for but this is what I felt when I read it. as always your writes come off deep and beautiful for me. never a simple and baseless write. aways profound and meaningful.
Whenever there's a piece of you, heavens smile.Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.
6 years ago
To me so many nature poems are somewhat dull and boring Meena, but not this one :) This one is alive and kicking delivering a great message. I love how you gave nature a voice here, jailed dreams and cement joy were great choice of words to really make this poem "pop" Hope all is well Meena, great write!
This is a lovely and sad poem about the state of the human condition. We want life, but the burdens and 'wants' of material living have polluted our minds. Instead of fulfilling our more natural instincts, we simply bury nature with cement and forget the flower that cry. I love all the analogy.
An interesting piece. The whole imagery gives vivid depicts in whole piece. The rhythm, the flows and the scheme of your poem are perfectly written. It entails your expertise regarding poetry, the words of choices are brilliant too.
**Breeze of sweet roses
caught in the spider's web of greed
mountain of hope crumbles
upon thorns of materialism.--one of my favorite part..
As, a whole I love it....very well done:)
6 years ago
Wonderful expression and choice of words. It really made me think, 5/5.
Okay I'm not great with interpretations but I feel like this is a metaphor for society in general. How we are often too selfish to see the world around us, to see people in poverty in particular. Is that right?
Oh and I loved this verse:
Still life has jailed dreams
which dared to be true
time is drunk
in the wine of money.