Leaf and Perlin Stream by Stinging Eyes
Among The Leaves
Missed Connections in Brooklyn
in moments and beside this stream
inside these woods I feel the woe
of lovers lost
of regret supreme
and all the time
in and out of dreams
I see the face
of my missing theme
we’ve never met
I’ve never found you
my hearts agape
my hearts a flutter
my heart sewn tightly
and torn asunder
perhaps I’ve passed you
along on a street
or perhaps your reading this
and its making you weak
I sit in my woods
amongst the trees and breeze
and wonder if
I will find you among the leaves.
Her Two Cents
What is it about the imagery of the woods, leaves, and gently burbling streams that leads us to think about dreams and imaginary thoughts? Is it the quiet, shadowy qualities that exist in both nature and our deeper consciousness? Is it the absence of the cacophonous stimuli that totally encumbers our external lives? If you took the time to find the leaves and then look at them, through them, beneath them, what would you find?
I truly love this poem. I think that most of us feel this way.