Whispering Shadow
I glance at you from the corner of the room,
a quiet flame in the flicker of dusk,
Your laughter is a stream,
carving its path through silence,
and I, a river in waiting,
gather stones in my throat.
I am a secret garden,
trembling beneath the weight of unsaid words,
my heart, a wildflower,
brushing against the wispy wind of doubt.
Your name, a shadow on my skin,
pressing against the skin of my thoughts.
Minted memory warm and weightless,
like a rosy reverie on Sunday siesta.
In the stillness of your smile,
I burn quietly,
like the first ember before the fire,
a spark too shy to leap.
I long to speak,
but my voice shivers like a falcon,
on the edge of a storm,
caught between the sky and the earth,
never knowing if it will soar or fall.
I am a quiet song,
singing only to the stars,
waiting for your name to slip
from the tip of my tongue,
a confession caught in the undertow.
you are the silence that holds me,
the air too sweet to break,
and so,
I wait,
glancing at you from the shadows,
like a sunset no one dares to name.
@ZenArashi This poem is so beautifully written! I love the imagery—‘quiet flame in the flicker of dusk’ and ‘laughter is a stream carving its path through silence’ really stand out. The metaphor of ‘gathering stones in my throat’ captures such a raw sense of restraint, and the garden imagery with ‘unsaid words’ adds depth to the feeling of longing. There’s a lovely tension between desire and hesitation, especially with lines like ‘I burn quietly, like the first ember before the fire.’ It’s a soft, powerful piece, full of subtle emotion. Beautiful work!
@azurePond
Azure, I’m genuinely smiling right now reading your feedback. Honestly, I was nervous about whether it would land, it’s a topic that I take time to address poetically, but your response made all the vulnerability feel so worth it. I’ll definitely be holding on to your kind words 🙏🏼 they’re a huge boost for me.
@ZenArashi
I may have teared up reading this. I hope you take that as praise. 🥲.
As a whole, the way this piece captured every moment and every thought of longing for that someone to even acknowledge your existence.. its somewhere I've been personally before. To choke back our words for fear of looking desperate. To try to be content existing just outside their orbit..
Yeah. This really put me in my feels. In a good way. Thank you.
@Dingleboop
Dingle, when I wrote this, I was channeling all those times I've been stuck in that space, quietly watching someone, wishing for acknowledgment but too scared to speak up. It’s like being on the outside of a circle, just hoping someone will turn and see you. I’ve definitely been there, sitting with that quiet ache, trying to be content in the silence, even though everything in me wanted to shout out.
To hear that it resonated with you like that…well, it’s both humbling and validating. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I think we write in the hopes that someone else might feel less alone in those emotions. Hmm, your feedback tells me that maybe, just maybe, that’s happening. So thank you for sharing this with me. Hugs and offers two-ply Egyptian papyrus tissues if wanted.
@ZenArashi
Oh my such high quality tissues! Thank you!
You are of course correct as always.
@ZenArashi
Your poem seems to capture the very essence of unspoken/unrequited love. The silent paralysis of adoration that cannot find it's voice. There is a desperate longing that begs release even as it seems comforted into inaction. Being both smitten and tentative, the whole piece has a tender and heart-warming innocence to it. There are some truly excellent lines, both in creativity and for just the general feelings they engender. I thought the alliterated two lines of "Minted memory warm and weightless, like a rosy reverie on Sunday siesta" absolutely lovely. They are so buoyant and gentle, and yet steeped with sensory impressions.
The sheer scope of the nature imagery and the excellent metaphors you craft from it adds to the feeling of this being pure and unsullied love; the perfection of the ideal we hold when in the presence of what we idolise. That same feeling also robbing us of the capacity to take the step we desperately wish to end our sweet suffering as we are muted to inaction by self doubt and awe.
It was a lovely poem, softly melancholic and yet tender. I hope the subject of your poem brought you as much happiness in the end as befitting the depth of emotion displayed here.