My old topic for Last Letter To Eve: http://forums.d2jsp.org/topic.php?t=28631651&f=266

I am back.

Mortal wounds

Lord, lord, what grain am I to thee?

To be so blessed, as I

These many centuries

Still the mind to tell story

Strength still

To bear the boy upon his swing

…What grain am I to thee?



Even as these thoughts reverberated gently throughout the tree

so also the boys thoughts found their ways.

thoughts of happiness, of love, where his palms

acted as cradles grasping the heavy knotted limp strands

they made strong connections. Where his fingertips bent around

in effort to secure the cradle finding the comforts, found as

flesh touches flesh signaling the security that gives

strength to small hands with satisfaction, the gifts of a firm

grip. The boy's thoughts found a way. A way to blend, and as was

inherent to all nature they traveled the simplest routes,

those least resistant.

Happiness was love and love was immortal, moving today

through the palms of a child. Through the hand worn rope, the

be twining of a mother & father's love. Upwards pushed thoughts, this

also causal do all natures, through far less know, that is to men.

yes nature never pulls; that is for the unnatural opposite,

nature as from the beginning is content to gently push.

So little Ethan Henlys' thoughts (what many might call

Dreams) nevertheless, Ethan akined them to thoughts. These thoughts he

gently pushed, and as would be expected they gently moved up the ropes,

that firmly held the wooden seat. Around the two limbs upon which

the had been so securely wrapped & as the path of least resistance

did so dedicate little Ethan's thoughts followed around the

bound till its end was found or as some might also a pounced

if they wished perhaps to be difficult, " where the beginning

was wound, " Either way still his thoughts flowed into

the bark, seeping to find the sap that's moves thought the

wooden bones are there where the tree's spirit is in the marrow.



Lord, Lord, what grain am I to thee

Oh look Sam, a melody

A mocking bird sings

To be so blessed

So many centuries

… I think mom & dad are up

I smell eggs

What grain am I to thee

… Come on Sam, watch fly

Lets go eat!

What grain am I today.

This post was edited by Jangalang on Nov 16 2009 08:50pm

Noone wanna comment about this? Good, bad?

Your imagery is amazing bro.

Although one thing that bothered me a bit is that you start out in the first person, switch to third, and then end in first again; with no apparent reason.

If you did it for some reason that I just missed only reading it once then it's cool, but generaly that's not a good thing to do.

Yeah I noticed I switched as well, but when I tried re-doing it in all 1 view... for some reason I could not get it to fit together... It was very annoying ><

You do have a very unique style

I think that it's beautifully written and your use of imagery is perfect!

I actually like the way you switch person, I think it shows the confusion in the mind of the original questioner so I think it's relevant and effective to do thus!

I also think it's effective where you don't actually use question marks for the last stanza, I'm not sure if this is deliberate or not but I think it shows that, it CAN'T be a question, as it's out of his hands, If you see what I mean?

either way I loved it! keep it up!

~ Regards, Tiegan