The Spirit

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Contently Deranged Travelers




Silently, in mind, drunk lillies sing

Their quiet tunes of defeat.

Too tired for dancing,

They slump down towards the ground

Underneath a darkened sky.

Leaves thinking of reaching.

I expect their expecting mercy

From the rain,

The sky doesn’t look too relenting

WIth its various shades of

Purple, blue and gray.

I wonder if they see it that way.

The trees at times seem to be dancing as their branches sway

Almost as if their branches (their hands)

Are playing with the wind today...

Or, rather, playing the wind like an instrument;

Soft movements


And In this moment I can understand the tree.

I really feel the wind

Like I never felt it before;

The power,

The magic,

The force.

Like a wave

Hitting the shore

Again and again

With miraculous otherworldly strength.

In this way I feel the holy spirit;

I understand the metaphor of which the bible speaks:

The spirit is the wind


Fierce yet



The lilies give me a nod of acknowledgement

Like an elder, far, far older than me.

I imagine, they already know the secret.

Now they bob their heads up and down

In joy and in humor; they’re elated

Laughing at me, a child,

Endearing and naive.


Submitted: April 06, 2019

© Copyright 2021 unmasked delusions. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Bert Broomberg

Good poem. I do have a suggestion. Instead of just saying (their hands) it would be a good idea to use some sort of modifying description such as: their bark covered hands, or their brittle wooden fingers, or anything you can come up with. It just adds a little bit extra for the reader to create another image. I hope you'll find my remark useful.

Sat, April 6th, 2019 8:03pm


Thanks for the suggestion. I understand what you mean and I honestly appreciate the feedback.

Sat, April 6th, 2019 1:08pm


You're right. I meant to comment on this one. I don't know how my comment got on thee other one. Musts been a glitch.

Mon, June 17th, 2019 11:17pm


Yeah or sometimes I'll have multiple stories or poems open at the same time, I've probably commented on the wrong one before too because of that

Tue, June 18th, 2019 8:03am

Forrest Obzerveer

Wind, absent people, can be frightening and mysterious. Yet, when you are in the middle of it, it is quite lively. It's sort of like a spirit messaging your skin. I find it to be very comfortable too.

Sun, September 8th, 2019 8:42pm


Very true. That's an interesting description. Thanks for the comment

Sun, September 8th, 2019 2:36pm


as usual, nice work U.D.

Fri, December 27th, 2019 6:47pm

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