The end of the world

A sonnet for threatening days.  And for hope when all seems lost. 
To share with friends over at the dVerse Poets Pub.

 

The end of the world

There is a dreadful quickening tonight
upon the air – it runs its fingers through
my corn-stalk hair and beckons me into
the open yard to watch the growing might
of wind and cloud. This mesmerizing sight
of grey fists dipping earthward blocks my view
of all that I had trusted to be true
forever, whipping in the pea-green light.
A telephone is ringing somewhere in
the house – a warning, maybe, from a friend –
but I stand still, enthralled. This overcast
horizon has been mine before. Where thin
despair birthed hope. I trust the world will end
three times at least before I die at last.

 

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About Andrew Kreider

I'm a poet and musician,transplanted from London, England to beautiful northern Indiana. By day I am a stay-at-home dad with our three kids while my amazingly talented spouse conquers medical school one long shift at a time. At night, I'm a performer and trouble-maker. I love my life.

8 responses »

  1. Andrew! You’ve got some wicked lines laced throughout this! The piece carries a depth the rhythm and form allows to sneak up on you, until you deliver the finishing blow.

    Reply
  2. wow…the world has a way of ending and being reborn….in the moment we think this surely must be it but….in that moment though it could be true….really nicely done to form as well man….

    Reply
  3. yes, sometimes our world does end multiple time…yet, we still find a tomorrow.

    Reply
  4. My world ended over and over… this is a great meditation on the nature of beginnings and endings, of life and death. The End Of The World as more than a sermon… thank you SOOOOO much for that! And the idea of being reborn into a new chapter of one’s own life, a blessed thought as well. Loved this, Andrew. Peace, Amy
    http://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/09/11/comes-the-revolution-for-riley/

    Reply
  5. As eerie and frightening as this could be and seemingly is at first blush, ultimately it’s soooo hopeful – especially when you sum it up the way you do … an appropriate poem for this day of days when we seem not to know how to do anything but commemorate the awfulness over and over. Well done.

    http://nsaynne.wordpress.com/2012/09/12/like-pieces-of-confetti-souls-rained-down/

    Reply
  6. rainy nights, and thunderstorms…scary but even then, magnificent!

    Reply
  7. A great capture–you nailed it.

    Reply
  8. We’ve got another three months yet: until december 21st.
    Then your sonnet will show its worth 🙂

    Reply

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