Even wistful tears know where to fall,
Upon fingers used, descriptive,
Wishing to lay upon accomplished hands.
Within dreams,
Requiring escape,
Leagues allowed,
And held,
By love.
Even wistful tears know where to fall,
Upon fingers used, descriptive,
Wishing to lay upon accomplished hands.
Within dreams,
Requiring escape,
Leagues allowed,
And held,
By love.
Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister 
I like the league you play in, Aud. Big leagues.
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Aw, thank you! I got raked over the coals on this one, but I learned something, so all is well. 🙂
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Let ’em rake. All is well, indeed.
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♡♡
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Audrey
i like this very much for it allows me to interpret in more than one way.
Best to You
jf
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Thank you for your support, jf. I suppose I pushed a little too far. Hugs.
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Wistful and wishful … a beautiful longing in this poem.
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Thank you for appreciating my thoughts, Gus. I do long, probably far too much.
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You have a poet’s heart.
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Yes, this I know to be truer than true. ♡
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Reinette: One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel.”
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Astonishing, Mihran. Thank you.
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I think “love” does not know anything about tolerance, the latter being a term of rather negative connotations and implications, not positive ones. Probably “freedom” or one of it’s submeanings might have been the preferential perception of choice. 🙂
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Somebody in college once tried to prove that to me, as well. I always wondered why tolerance was assigned to such negative emotion. I think love is written all over tolerance, Salva. Just my opinion. Love and freedom, yes, of course…agreed.
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The Oxford dictionary defines the word tolerate: to “allow the existence, occurrence, or practice of (something that one dislikes or disagrees with) without interference.” And: to “be capable of continued subjection to (a drug, toxin, or environmental condition) without adverse reaction.” Meaning: acceptance, permission, sufferance, indulgent.
If this word is used to describe social acceptance among classes, races and religions, it is essentially meant that those who are a part of those groups are allowed/permitted to live peacefully, though unaccepted.
Thus, tolerance, in it’s true and original meaning, describes the arrogance and finally racism of the powerful against the weak.
It’s the old story: to rule you have to possess the meanings of language. Contemporary folk has been duped to accept a wrong connotation. Orwellian newspeak. 🙂
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Now what say you of being tolerant of someone’s emotions, Salva. A true act of love, I think. I still don’t see how being tolerant of one’s tears can’t be seen as love. Maybe my glasses are rose colored when it comes to human kindness.
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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: “Tolerance should really only be a passing attitude: it should lead to appreciation. To tolerate is to offend.”
Point is, the world “tolerance” is the wrong one in any of its contemporary usages/connotations. If people want to describe a positive action for which they are used to utilise the term “tolerance”, it is not tolerance, what they mean but appreciation/esteem/valuation/appraisal.
🙂
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Thank you for giving me something to think about, Salva. In the end you are correct and I miss used love in the way it was intended for us to utilize.
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Very much unfortunately there are those who – for whatever reason – deem it fit to allocate new meanings to existing terminology …
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You had me with your last two lines, Audrey — simply magnificent! I’ll just keep the cloud pictures to myself this time, okay?? 😉
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Thank you, Debbie! Wow…blushing. I don’t see anything in these clouds. Haha. You crack me up.
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I think Dinosaurs live there!
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Maybe that’s what I’m hunting for after all, Duke. *placating yet again*
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Okay, tell me what you’re thinking.
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In the poem? I was thinking about what/whom I longed for, then I cried, out of nowhere. I sat thinking…gesh, even my tears know where to fall. Creative hands collecting them out of love….
Then I got creamed for calling it tolerance. Tolerance meaning merely willing to live with it even if one doesn’t agree…in the end something love isn’t capable of. Now my poem is horrid. Because in the end…tis true and I cannot go redefining words.
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It is not horrid! I think you’re just too particular on yourself, you know.
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Yes, maybe so, but they had a point.
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Wait…you mean your siblings creamed you?
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No. Someone in the comments, but they were right,, I fear.
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Hmm…! Don’t take it!
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Tis fine.
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Never would have guessed the ending, but it’s a good one. 🙂
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Yeah, snuck up on ya, I know. It’s okay.. 🙂 Thanks!
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Have to agree that the first line pulls you right in.
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Hi, Joshua. Thank you. I’m always surprised at what catches your eye.
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Ah, that opening line. What a wonderful poem. 🙂
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Hey, You…you liked it, I guess? 🙂 Thank you!
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Yeah, I did! The entire poem is great, but the opening line especially hit me. In a good way. 🙂
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I’m so glad. Thanks for telling me. I like good ways. 🙂
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wonderful embrace
of tears & love 🙂
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Hi! Thank you so much… Hugs! ♡
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