[Eadha Deora]

My great-grandmother's house is gone now.
There is nothing but the farmland
returning to its nature,
and a few outbuildings as vague
reminders of once-human habitation.
The fallow fields are now a kaleidoscope of
dancing colours,
the hot summer flower scents
swaying with the delight of their own
sweetness,
and everywhere, there are saplings,
stark presences above the tall vegetation,
a silent people moving slowly.

I search the outbuildings,
looking for some ancestral behest
but instead only find dust feeding greenth
and growth that feeds off rotting wood and decaying days.

What truth is there but life
and its upswelling into death,
like the full unfolding of berries
marking their own demise.

I take off my clothes and
sit in the waiting grass.

Dreams come easier for those
whose home is more than four walls.

[Venomous Vixen]

This could be one of the most powerful pieces of yours I have ever read - to me it speaks volumes, and almost got me a bit choked up. It's beautiful and yet riddled with sorrow, timeless questions about life and death and why and the feeling of searching and loss after someone has passed...

My great-grandmother's house is gone now.

I think the simplicity of this opening line is what really grabs you, there is nothing left to imagine, it is the way it is and it just, well, hits you.

There is nothing but the farmland
returning to its nature,

I enjoyed the image here, the Earth cleansing herself after playing hostess, returning to her natural state. I could see it, humanity decomposing against a sunset, golden grass growing and taking over what was left...

and a few outbuildings as vague
reminders of once-human habitation.

This was almost haunting, like the skeleton of existence, proof she was once there - more than here, many were once there and are no more.

The fallow fields are now a kaleidoscope of
dancing colours,

Again, I commend you on your ability to dance from something as eerie as the last image to something as breathtaking as this. You are creating a war in the reader's mind almost, one side reveling in the freshness of nature, allowed to spread out untainted once more, the other wishing for things that once were, even if they destroyed the Earth, things that have left the heart empty.

the hot summer flower scents
swaying with the delight of their own
sweetness,

This one really caught me, the movement, the aroma, the colors I imagined, even the temperature... in 3 lines you set an entire scene.

and everywhere, there are saplings,
stark presences above the tall vegetation,

Again, new life, the Earth's children and rebirth, beautiful.

a silent people moving slowly.

This one caught me, nature or humanity? Ghost or...?

I search the outbuildings,
looking for some ancestral behest
but instead only find dust feeding greenth
and growth that feeds off rotting wood and decaying days.

There is that searching again, trying to fill those spaces... I can relate to this so much, I think most of us can in someway or another, and this is a reminder things do fill those places but not the ones we seem hellbent on searching for, the ones that will never come back in that form again, but will always be with us.

What truth is there but life
and its upswelling into death,

I would normally think this line a bit pessimistic, but given the setting it is just another one of those 'the way it is' lines, and when I first read it I thought, "yeah, hmmm, that's exactly it".

like the full unfolding of berries
marking their own demise.

Just blew me away here... 10 words I know, and yet to see them arranged this way, it's just... well perfect really.

I take off my clothes and
sit in the waiting grass.

You wear these bits of simplicity well, not what I am used to from you and I think it breaks the piece up much better for me, giving me a moment to reflect after some heavy images, ground myself again and get back to the piece itself.

Dreams come easier for those
whose home is more than four walls.

This alone could have made it for me, but added to the rest, well I can only gush so much. This one really moved me For that, I thank you.

[Eadha Deora]

sheesh, thank you, Bri .... this was actually a dream, every single image and emotion rooted there. I woke up at 4 AM and wrote it down because it felt so so powerful for me personally. I am glad that its circle of presence touches others, especially you. xxx

[Vorcla]

Well, Bri's review is a tough act to follow, Jenn. I agree with everything she said, and more.

I can really relate to these images.The house I grew up in as a kid is gone. I's just an empty woodlot now, being reclaimed by the forest which creeps in a little more every year. If you look closely among the weeds, you can see a few broken clumps of blacktop where the driveway used to be, but that's all. Your poem gave me an eerie feeling of deja vu.

This is brilliant, hun. I really love the "back to nature" themes you've been featuring of late. Incredible images, beautiful words. What more could you ask for? I echo Bri and say "thank you."

[Nupur]

God, I can't put this better than Bri did and I agree with everything she said. There isn't anything I can add to it except that the last two lines are just...wow. Quotable, printable, publishable... a lot of words come to mind. Those last two lines captured the entire essence for me and well, I'm completely blown away. Wow Jenn, just wow.