OUR PRECIOUS LIVES

I rarely feel such an emotion so profoundly when I read a poem but having read this it was like a rending of clothing a ripping apart of a covering and the raw, bare truth was exposed. Yes this poem made me fell fully exposed ...to life and death. Yes, our precious lives. Seabhac

Awwwww Boni ... What can I say but you bare facts most people dont like to face ... but yet in our fraility we have to face it ... its when we become broken vessels that the preciousness of life comes home to us and shit I gotta stop rambling, great poem my dear you get my vote and nomination ... love and higgest bugs Jayne x x x

On first look. Eternity’s lonely reality, I’m tempted to glean, in relation to our vain quest to find it. This is a very different poem than ‘I WILL LET YOU FALL’. A philosophical piece, reminiscent of a chorus line from an ancient Greek play, - and I really dig that. The hand that grasps what cannot be held, tied to the solitary, mortal state we’re caught in trying to comprehend eternity, or god, some would say. From,- ‘hands grasping for more…’, and,- ‘a wish to make time go slow…., and make a connection that will last’, I like to add the so called ‘eternal virtues and vices of man’, but that’s just me, classically brainwashed. The first two stanzas paint this kind of picture nicely,- and it builds anticipation for the final one, the answer to all mankind’s questions… And here you do what I think is essential. You don’t pull the pin. You just draw a line, separating eternity from the incessant human voyeurism of a reality we have no faculties of understanding, all the while we ignore ‘our precious lives’, hence reality, in the more practical aspects of the word, can be seen as finite. I find the last stanza to be a great conclusion to the write. The forced definition of reality, irritates, the imagery of the eyes, mysterious, and the punch, liberating. It’s simply a great poem, Bonita. I have some minute suggestions on the first and third stanza, I’ve put brackets around issues; Eternity - slips through the hourglass Time: its currency Space: its vastness shifting, sifting, (like sand) - through fingers of hands grasping for more… – ‘the hourglass’, ‘shifting’ and ‘sifting’ have lots of sand in them. No need to tell the reader what the fingers are grasping. Loneliness leeches from longing a wish - to make time go slow, tie in with eternity and make a connection that will last… Reality is finite(.) (-) (like) a multitude of eyes peering through the darkness where there is nowhere to hide these - our precious lives. – Here I find the comparative ‘like’ to weaken the ‘Reality is finite’,- which should come as a bang. The abstraction of ‘a multitude of eyes peering…’, is mystifying, and can stand by itself without need of direct relation to reality,- puzzle the reader a little. All yours, Espen.

Espen beat me to it, I, too, wanted to point out that "like". Otherwise, a stunning write. Eternity... don't we all secretly wish for it? Yours, ~Nina

what I love about this poem is its melody shifting, sifting, sand - then that grasping I unfortunately cannot read it to myself because I have caught the most wicked cold but one of the first things I will do as soon as I re-find my voice is come back to this little beauty to read it out loud it was a pleasure to read, Boni your Proprietress

Lovely Bonita... these our precious lives... love that ending, beautiful arabesque at the end. Cheers Anni~ "When we feel love and kindness toward others, it not only makes others feel loved and cared for, but it helps us also to develop inner happiness and peace". H.H. the Dalai Lama

Everyone has told you already, but this is a very good poem! the only thing I wanted to point out, to me, "of hands" seemed redundant... through fingers grasping... for more and more, really enjoyed this read Boni! Richard