Across The Meadow
A poem on transition
Through this tangled forest I’ve traipsed,
Among the flowers and trees.
Only stopped once or twice
To hear the buzzing of the bees.
The reds and greens, the blues and whites,
Passed by my eyes, then out of sight.
The forest thorns reaching out for me,
Did not deter my careless speed.
Now I cross this meadow,
Towards my future hopes and dreams.
Looking back at weeping flowers,
I never stopped to truly see.
I sit and watch the flame licked forest,
burn to embers then to ash.
Wishing I could turn back time.
In fact, I thought, I can!
Now I watch the fires
as they burn the flowers to a crisp,
Wishing I had slowed down,
to smell their fragrance, for a bit.
Then I saw across the meadow,
Where the forest was still green,
My path, indeed, had not yet finished,
It has just begun.
This forest is much larger,
The path obscure by vines and trees.
The tangled branches veiling me,
From what is soon to be.
But this time I will not rush by,
I take it nice and slow.
I walk my path at a steady pace,
And stop to smell each rose.
© Andrea Curran All Rights Reserved
Authors Note:
I wrote this poem in highschool originally about graduation but it can really be fitting for any transitional period in life. An earlier draft appeared in my high school newspaper. I’ve always felt my poems were living things. Over time I edit and change them. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. I think I’ll be one of those poets who never posts or reads the same version of a poem twice. Sometimes I ad-lib words on the fly at open mics just because it feels better in the moment but it never makes it into the written version. I think it mirrors the chaos and transition of life and it makes the poetry come alive.
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I’ll leave the light on for you! Much Love — Andy
This made me think of a beautiful park I always wanted to visit and it was never the right time.
Last year there was a major forest fire and most of it was lost.
A great reminder to stop and smell the flowers
Such a reflective poem! I love how the tone transforms at the end, the realization that the path isn't over, but that this time you are choosing to walk it on your own terms, nice and slow. Beautifully written.