Posted in poésie

The string

I remember those days,
Sitting on the swing.
With legs not long enough,
to reach the ground.
With strength not enough,
to push yourself forward.
With no others behind,
to push you to the heights.
A little struggle of sorts,
To get you going.

 

With every attempt to swing,
moving a little farther,
With every push through air,
hoping to reach higher.
With gush of wind onto the face,
Feeling the life within,
With every little success there,
dreams of living “the moment”
with every next swing,
creating the next big “moment”.

 

Life hasn’t been much different,
With swings on offer all the time,
With no one to push around,
Finding ourself short all the time,
But still the push is on.
“the moment” is being felt.
Newer once right behind,
Here I thought that was “the moment”
Right behind come a string of them.

—————————————————————————————

Prompt this week over at writer’s island is “The moment”, I think my views on this have changed of late. From a big “The moment”, I think I have moved on to a lot of big “the moments”.

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26 thoughts on “The string

  1. Here I thought that was “the moment”
    Right behind come a string of them.

    this is my favorite line in this,,, although the entire piece is lovely… don’t “push” too hard… one day there may not be a string of them anymore,, and that is a very difficult feeling to come to terms with…..

    Paisley,
    I guess the string will never stop 🙂
    -Rambler

  2. Nice one! But when you are an adult, you always find friends to push you around don’t you? 😉

    Ps
    Actually you really got to be lucky to find some one who can push you into your moment 🙂
    -Rambler

  3. So beautifully written ….loved the way you’ve compared life to the ups and downs of the swing…

    The last paragraph is so nicely worded…

    Prats
    Actually I was more talking about the feeling you get when you reach the peak of a swing 🙂
    -Rambler

  4. Excellent. Masterpiece I esspecially loved “with every little succes here, dreams of living the moment , with every next swing creating the next big moment

    Marja,
    I always end up feeling that way, I think I have reached a high or a low, and immediately that gets out done
    -Rambler

    .

  5. I loved the way you compared the succession of moments to pushes on a swing. The swing has resonance for me.

    watermaid,
    we do need the pushes don’t we 🙂
    -Rambler

  6. Ah, to think of those self-powered rides on the swing as being similar to adult challenges. We get there, indeed! This is wonderful. The title is marvelous, too.

    exactly sandy they are so similar to challenges we face and self powered as well
    -Rambler

  7. This is really good… all the metaphors here, and moments still to come… may you have great heights and legs that get to touch and push off of from the ground once in awhile 🙂

    Lea,
    thanks so much for the wishes
    -Rambler

  8. It’s certainly true about the string of moments – impossible to pick just one! Great poem.

    There are so many, why try to pick right 🙂
    -Rambler

  9. A string of moments, one rushing into the next faster and faster, no wonder when you think it’s there, it’s actually gone and replaced…superb piece. Thank you.

    UL, Oh yeah when you think this is the one, there is already one replacing it 🙂
    -Rambler

  10. I really like all the different aspects you covered in such a short group of verses. Well, shucks, I guess that what poems are supposed to do, right! Duh, Mary

    Mary,
    glad you see the poem that way 🙂
    -Rambler

  11. The metaphor used is interesting and aptly chosen to express your sentiments and to give form and dress the moments you’re sharing in this beautiful piece.

    I easily connect because once in our life, all of us ride that swing in metaphor or for real.

    I wish you well.

    ~ Jeques

    Here’s a link to my winning moments:
    http://jeques.wordpress.com/2007/12/11/1sts-9-publication/

    Jeques
    thanks for the wishes, and yes we all do ride swings in real life one way or the other
    -Rambler

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