Walking Alone |
| by Michael Anderson |
Alone
Edgar Allan Poe [1829]
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were- I have not seen
As others saw- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring-
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone-
And all I lov'd- I lov'd alone-
Then- in my childhood- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still-
From the torrent, or the fountain-
From the red cliff of the mountain-
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold-
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by-
From the thunder, and the storm-
And the cloud that took the form
(When all the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
Walking Alone
Michael R. Anderson [1/90]
Response to: "Alone", by Edgar Allan Poe.
I, too, was born of a world not the same,
Amongst white snow, a raindrops' shame.
In life's garden, a dormant seed.
A heart held of dissimilar need.
I, too, was awed by lightning's flash,
Embering in mind even after the crash.
Followed closely by silent rain,
Blood-red, falling from the sky in vain.
The wind chimed and the earth shook from thunder,
And my mind was but befixed to wonder;
How could I stand amidst this storm,
Seek shelter not, yet still seem warm?
But I, too, take my sorrow at a site-
Other souls would nonchalantly slight.
And I, too, have felt the need for love,
But could only love that need which I dreamt of.
And as I peered deep through the skies,
The clouds grew black to shut my eyes.
The demon that came in your view,
Now's taken from me what he took from you.
In the garden the seed has sprang,
A nameless child unearths the pang.
Felt for the flower, both eyes in close.
Took twenty thorns to touch the rose.
A wondering mind looked to the sky,
So beautiful it had to die.
Laid it to rest upon the stone,
And turned away a man full grown.
Singing the same song at a different tone,
In thoughts, destined to die, unknown.
Born unto a world not of our own,
We walked together, walking alone.
|
|
Six FREE things you can do with this poem! |
| Friend |
Want to share this poem with a friend? You can email it directly to your friend, with a personal message from you. |
| Vote |
If this poem touched you, please take a moment to Vote for the poem and perhaps leave a comment telling us why. |
| eCard |
Artistically inclined? You can use this poem in a graphical greeting card, designed by you, and then send it to a special friend. |
| Print |
Need a hardcopy? You can send a copy of this poem directly to your printer, without all of the color and graphics. |
| Author |
Want to send the author of this poem a private email? If they have maintained a current address with us, we'll send your message for you. |
| More |
If you especially appreciated this author, we'll be happy to show you where you can find more of their poems |
(c) 1998 Michael Anderson Please respect the rights of the author and Passions in Poetry. If you would like to use this poem on your own web page, please contact the Author. Thank you.
|
|
|