Hello poets! This is Sumana from India. Here I am for the first time as a prompter at our wonderful Poets United Midweek Motif. Smiles. Hope you are all hale and hearty. My head is still spinning from the trauma we had faced a few weeks ago.
The recent earthquake in Nepal sent shock waves throughout the world. This phenomenon is not leaving me at all. Whatever I do wherever I go, like a circular wave my mind keeps coming back to the mighty Waves.
So I also want you to think of Waves today.
Give a voice to waves in any form whether it's sea wave, heat wave, sound wave, radio wave, gravity wave, light wave, stadium wave or even microwave. It would be also delightful to include thought wave in the list.
A few quotes and a couple of poems for the start. You may even use a line or two as a springboard for your poetry. Write in free verse or form, your choice.
"Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end"
"When a wave of love takes over a human being...such an exaltation takes him that he knows that he has put his finger on the pulse of the great secret and the great answer"
...Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings
"Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind."
...Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
By that Long Scan of Waves
by Walt Whitman
By that long scan of waves, myself call'd back, resume upon myself
In every crest some undulating light or shade---some retrospect,
Joys, travels, studies, silent panoramas---scenes ephemeral,
The long past wars, the battles, hospital sights, the wounded and the dead,
Myself through every by-gone phase---my idle youth---old age at hand,
My three-score years of life summ'd up, and more, and past,
By any grand ideal tried, intentionless, the whole a nothing,
And haply yet some drop within God' scheme's ensemble---some wave, or part of wave,
Like one of yours, ye multitudinous ocean.
Once by the Pacific
by Robert Frost
The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God's last Putout the Light was spoken.
Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community.
Our next week's motif is Happines by Susan Chast