The dying heart
They say, that love is at its most extreme
and beautiful, when it is dying,
and of course it is.
The swan, the loveliest of birds,
sings only once in life when dying,
or so they say at least,
and it’s a beautiful portrayal,
if not of reality, at least of love.
The culmination of a love affair
is usually the end of it,
since what then follows is depression,
usually, remorse, perhaps, and melancholy,
maybe guilt and abysmal sentimentality,
the fall from heaven down to hell,
as if love naturally was mano-depressive.
Still, the love you had, although it died,
shall always live with you forever
and remain triumphant in your memory
if all that failed was just the fallibility of all reality.
I liked this piece and it reminds me a bit of Jack Gilbert’s “Failing and Flying”
blessings,
jolen
Lovely poem, the sentiments read so true, especially the last four lines. Sue.
Enjoyed the insight in this and the ending, as Sue mentioned. I wondered about the repetition of ‘dying’, if perhaps another similar word could be used, though the swan is perfectly placed in this poem. I think a wee edit of extraneous details might enhance an already lovely poem.
Kim :^)
A bit different for you, I was looking for the musical connection – it was there (The Swan)
Very descriptive and thought provoking…
gerry.