Five Hundred and Twenty Meters The Sunday Whirl #198

The delicate Cinnamon Rose leans against a sturdy Aloe plant.
Every time I act, I learn how to take an action even better.
This world emits hope, though it bursts with wounds,
I don’t want to worry through tumbles and sound,
I know I no longer live
five hundred and twenty meters
from Brooklyn.

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16 responses to “Five Hundred and Twenty Meters The Sunday Whirl #198

  1. Very interesting sensations here … I enjoyed your poem very much!

  2. Every place we live colours us much like a tattoo and stays with us all our lives.

  3. What a wonderful opening image – and smell…it was immediately soothing..yes..to feel safe in ourselves and where we are is important…maybe it starts with that initial inhalation…peaceful sunday to you xo

  4. As they say, every destination has a different journey. Love M xx

  5. I felt the last two lines as a cri de coeur. Would you prefer to live back in the US?

  6. This world emits hope, though it bursts with wounds,
    I don’t want to worry through tumbles and sound,

    No matter where we are things will work out fine. It is a question of accepting change that makes the world moves. Wonderful lines Pamelita!

    Hank

  7. I love this rose! And all the rest of the words you have chosen!

    • It is actually a very tiny flower, but that is her name. She’s growing out on the Aloe plant in my yard. Almost like she is hugging the Aloe. It really caught my attention the other morning.

  8. Eventually we climatize to the scents and sounds that surround us, or at least one can hope that we do,

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/

  9. I love the juxtaposition of hope bursting with wounds….and the idea of finding beauty even though you no longer live 520 meters from Brooklyn. Robin’s comment resonates too…..every place we live will color us and stick with us like a tattoo….both the delicate and the sturdy 😉

  10. magicalmysticalteacher

    Thank goodness you know where you DO live at present! 😉

  11. magicalmysticalteacher

    I was in your fair city a few years back, and it didn’t strike me as being anything like New York—but what do I know? 😉

  12. Despite the opening full of flowers and smell.. I feel that longing to leave.. But Personally those wonderful first sentences really gave a longing in my heart to be far from this winter…

I appreciate all comments.

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