Pilgrims


We were the ones who
painted dawn elegant goldenrod. It was when
the stilling splendor surrounded what
were the mountainous clouds where
light gently trespassed. How
the cascades of coquelicot flourished in summer,

that majestic summer,
nestled near the pale lamb who
could never comprehend how
life ends mangled in butchery jaws. When
the blooming marigold obscured where
the violets had once wavered, we pondered what

aura could surpass what
had once moulded the foundation of summer.
Pink sky veiled by the rising knoll where
we caught sunlight in dark sea. We were the ones who
solemnly laid beneath the willow gown when
the rainbow knot unraveled. How

much further will creeping adulthood stretch? How
much longer will this night linger on? What
shall become of the lamplight aurora when
sunlight pours into the vale? Ode to summer,
passionate summer, haloed with those who
retain their youth. We wondered where

the undulating shadows folded at dusk. Where
the sleepwalking winds serenely deluge and how
they shriek in the lilac lace of linden limbs. Who
disturbs the vacant dark and what
shall the moonchild scribble about summer?
When did our solitude vanish? When

did we find ourselves behind the sun? When
will the celestial orbs wander where
crestfallen cavalcades of summer
memories haunt? We realize how
from the morning a moment rises. What
muse shall beckon to us? Who

will conjure a chorus when our voices fall slack? How
will they know what lyrics to echo? Where
will summer fall? What will we become and who?

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This Poems Story

This poem came about from hearing people talking about sort of graduation and starting a new job and separation with all the anxieties and fears that come with those. Basically it's a sort of lament to young adults who find the transition into adulthood as the death of innocence and youth. They find the last remaining shard of childhood in summer which they have an unbridled reverence for and are afraid of it becoming tarnished. In an attempt to capture their once good times, they go out all night and wait for the sun to come up. They're afraid of going to bed and waking up as adults but they also find the slow subconscious transition just as horrible. In a way they think life occurs in stages and the transitions between the stages happen in an instant. There's an image of this dying lamb representing their fears in a more blunt and obvious state. While they go out they discover that their habits and activities have been more-or-less taken over by a new youth. "The blooming marigold obscured where / the violets once wavered". These novel feelings of not being able to relate to the coming generation start to manifest and they realize that the beauties of summer apply to them less. Time meanders sort of endlessly so the stanza breaks flow into each other. The question words throughout represent this loathing towards being questioned about the future. As the poem progresses the questions asked start to become more sorrowful and in the end they've kind of accepted that they aren't in the limelight of youth anymore. The stars no longer shine down upon them. They find themselves "behind the sun" and wonder if "the celestial orbs" will wander where they're memories of summer are becoming opaque. In a peculiar way, they are "pilgrims" traversing into adulthood. The poem ends rather awkwardly with this questioning of the next stage in life. The final scene is this sunrise where the characters have to face another day forward. The minutia of everyday life has become this desolate concept and they have yet to face it with this new morbid state of mind.