Desolation
Rock and snow my prison cell
Stranded in the midst of beauty
Blue waves and sky no consolation
Thoughts of rescue from this desolation
Now as distant as a passing ship,
With its snapping sails
A faint syncopation
Against the murmur of swans
Taunting me from afar
The freedom of their aerial maneuvers
Bringing only profound sadness
Each passing day
The spark of hope dimmer
Until frozen
Splintering, shattering
Finally gone
“Desolation” has it’s roots in a poem I wrote for a prompt from Jane Dougherty and subsequently edited for The Ekphrastic Review, where it was published in October 2018. It was inspired by In the Blue Expanse, by Arkady Rylov, and can be found here.
Shared with OpenLinkNight #299 at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.
rivrvlogr 
“Stranded in the midst of beauty” is such a great line.
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🙂 Thank you.
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Stranded and imprisoned as if on an uninhabited island: beholding glory from that distance, one might be better off not seeing it at all.
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Any light in darkness is welcome.
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Reblogged this on OPENED HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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Thank you for sharing.
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Thank you for sharing this very heart touching poem, also with an audio. Great to listen, it brings much more feelings to the lines. Have a nice Friday, and enjoy a beautiful weekend! xx Michael
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Thank you for your kind comment.
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Oh WOW, this is so much more effective when read aloud!! Bravo
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😀 Thank you.
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When i first started reading your poem I thought of the prisoners on Alcatraz island watching the world outside through their cell windows.
Very well written Ken.
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Thanks, Dwight. You couldn’t get more desolate than in a prison cell.
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A beautiful painting that inspired a beautiful poem.
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Thank you, Lisa.
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You’re welcome.
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I do like that painting. Your interpretation of it is desolate though. I can’t help but see hope in the flight of swans.
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Beauty so near, yet so far.
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I remember this painting. Your poem is so sad–to see such beauty and to feel such desolation. I think the loss of hope is the saddest thing. I like hearing you read your poetry, Ken.
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Thank you, Merril. I thought of being on the distant shore in the painting and wondered, “What if all this surrounding beauty is unattainable?” Dwight’s thought of a prison cell is apt.
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You’re welcome.😔
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A beautiful desolation, Ken.
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Thank you, Ingrid.
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I read this very much as a metaphor for being isolated from everyone else… alone with only a window to the outside world… maybe beauty makes it even more painful.
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Thank you, Björn. Yes, like being in a prison cell, as Dwight commented.
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