Here is another poem which departs from my affinity for formal poetry, similar to “A Dream of Forms,” which is also published on this blog. It is another narrative-style contemplative poem, consisting of a meditation on discernment and purpose in the form of a Mohican warrior pausing in the woods.
This is another poem I enjoy quite a lot, but, similar to “A Dream of Forms,” it have really not been quite as well received as my more formal poetry (“Magnanimity,” “Lord’s Whisper,” “On His Knees in the Garden,” etc.). Perhaps the meditative, very personal nature of this poem makes it something that people cannot relate to, and cannot be inspired by…that’s why I recently wrote “A Good Friday Sonnet” and “Epistle to Wake,” because they are still meditations, but are more formal and more relatable, hopefully.
I look forward to receiving feedback on those two sonnets. We’ll see if they are a bigger hit than this one.
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