Fearful Heart

[ciceromantic]

I can't tell if the candles extinguished in the bedroom,
but I guess that's all they could have done
because they didn't start a fire.
And the wood sandal candles here
illuminate large shadows on the white walls,
showing waterfalls of tears shed years ago,
and claimed by shallow clouds before the moon.
It's neither summer nor fall;
a crestfallen heart sees no season but spring
when it throbs so hard
it tells the truth
for all near to hear,
for all to hear,
and far to hear,
it's startling murmur
murmur murmur
murmur.
I fear spring.

[Dew]

could take it a couple ways...but preferred to think about it as anxiety over the season of love and romance...when we're expected to pair up...and not pairing is such a shame and a let down...a new opportunity to feel badly about one's self. I hated Valentine's day for the first 20 years of my life! Now I dread it for different reasons...dew

[everhopeful]

To me, the ending of this suggests a speaker who prefers a feeling of limbo, rather than the expected optimism which comes with 'spring' - with spring representing the moment of closure and moving on from a negative experience. The imagery of the opening lines adds to the feeling of light only illuminating truths that the speaker would rather not confront.
Nicely done.

[JASON]

fearful perhaps that there won't be a suitable mate -
fearful of more rejection...
interesting work - thanks.

[Ladywildalice]

Dear ciceromantic: This is a wonderful, beautifully touching, yet poignant and sad poem, all at the same time. Love existed, once, but died, left, was extinguished by indifference, boredom, shallow connections, something. Our hearts want love, we ache for it, we yearn for it. That need for it drives us, and sometimes, that need for it tricks us into believing we have found it. Then when it doesn't materialize as we plotted it would, we are crestfallen, and the heart doesn't know what to do. You might say that, when we are faced with that hurt and pain, it is like Fall and Winter have moved across the face of our soul. Oh how we long for the warm, close and passionate days of Summer. So we set our sights on Spring, and the hope for rebirth, renewal, and new promise. But we have been burned so badly, that promise of another arrival, another chance, can be terrifying...the fear of having to face all the angst and insecurities, the uncertainty, and the possibilities of more failure and more abandonment is truly terrifying. Excellent write and so deserving of this recognition. Congrats!

[rupertpupkin]

Very nicely written poem. Enjoyed much. Well done on the spotlight

[Josie]

There are chores that Paul did that I must do like making sure the doors are locked before I retire. Often it means that I have to go and check because I do not remember locking them. I wanted to nudge you to go check on those candles. It is like you are saying that you do not care whether you live or die:
I can't tell if the candles extinguished in the bedroom,
but I guess that's all they could have done
because they didn't start a fire.

The next part of the poem seemed to say your past was dismal, a winter of despair. Imagine clouds blocking out the moonlight that might trigger hope within your soul:
And the wood sandal candles here
illuminate large shadows on the white walls,
showing waterfalls of tears shed years ago,
and claimed by shallow clouds before the moon.
It's neither summer nor fall;

You had no summer or fall, and your winter was not a happy time. You are afraid of spring and what it might bring.
Congratulations on the spotlight.