holding on/revised

Anna I just read this and incredible sadness washed over me ... cant explain it ... wow this is very powerful writing hun and I dont have the vocab to express how good it is ... this is beautifully sad gut wrenching writing .. Much love Jayne x x "We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves. Lynn Hall" ...

Powerful poetry is supposed to make us feel something, you have accomplished it with this short write... I just wanted to take my hands and comfort you, hold you holding on releasing but not my hold dear Anna not mine Richard

I am still affected Anna ... this is inspired writing ... love and hugz Jayne x x "We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves. Lynn Hall" ...

this line in particular reminds me of Cornwall's Saxon series. His character, Uhtred, is always going on about the glories and devastations of fate. I love how your poems always shine a light on the "magic" at the heart of human experience. In my opinion, facts don't speak the important truths as well as fiction. They are too linear. In this poem, time and experience are appropriately merged and convoluted.

I've read this a few times, the first time to be honest I didn't know what it was but I liked the idea of the stone in hand. Got me thinking on subsequent readings of a weight, then holding it up to the light seeing an embryo. I thought of a crystal, then I started to think of idea or thought. Then the passages about fear, brought to mind how scary new thoughts or ideas, situations can be. Fear before birth, or rebirth. Then on to the period after all this growth of rest, or a period of rejuvenation. That's how I started reading this, at first it seemed sad but then when I read a bit more it became even more interesting to me. Am I completely off on this? I enjoyed it more each time. raskin

That stone is from my frontage with its pebbly rocky breaks before the water's blooming edge It holds the heat, the wet lets the Mayflies rest upon mating melds the dirt where the grass strains each heart shaped in quells of endless rocking You, my tearing tearless crier the grit of my dreams' breached beaches Brian

stones just a metaphor although in my native culture its the grandfathers in spiritual reverance in masonic myth its the material to build glorious tributes and houses of sacred gather (dad was a mason) i like poems that challenge me to think and this one did I have progressed from self explanatory Pablum to intellectual prose i get it and i love this fantastic poem deserves more then five but gladly i give you five

what a flame you have here blowing in the dark. such a heart-felt piece of work. there is definite deep wisdom in there. -diatom shells

I was just sitting down to read some poetry and got your email ... I love the last line but you could take it so many ways Anna Tumbling I have been realeased in memeory I have been released wailing I have been released but I loved this one Anna just slipping my suggestions under your door LOL much love and hugz Jayne x x "We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves. Lynn Hall" ...

Thats a powerful end Anna I like very much ... Love J x x "We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves. Lynn Hall" ...

beautifully sad... Have I shared this one with you yet? But perhaps did we fuming in errors create a wandering universe through the language of breath? Again and again blow the clarion of beginning swiftly engrave the grain of sand before it became light again over the embryo's birth bud? (Nelly Sachs) Your little beauty of a poem reminded me of this favourite piece... and your butterfly pic reminds me of another one, to be shared another time... Yours, ~Nina

It's a magical moving picture experience painted with a beautiful word brush. You go deep to places we seldom visit. Your words touch and make tears.. and I think this is poetry at its very best. Love.

This is also a fascinating little gem of a story how I too love stones, along with trees, and the inanimate things; you have given the stone a human dimension and I love that. My 60th b'day I asked or no gifts just a stone and a poem. I said it before. Love Ann.