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A single Narcissus,
a single Daffodil
slipped from the crowd aslant
in steady wind and chant
that whisked along the road
to dance upon the hill.
They caught each other’s gaze
and stood quite still, amazed
in perfect negative
reflection—one’s yellow
to the other’s whiteness.
Both of them were dazed.
O beautiful flower, you’re
neither in deep streams
nor my daydreams?
I’m here,
alive, alone, extreme.
Ah, you’re like me--one whom I can truly esteem.
The single Narcissus
and single Daffodil
decided not to move
too near for fear they’d wake
and lose the double take
of perfection’s thrill.
And if they have not moved
they’re still beneath the hill
where there is not a chance
they’ll learn to love the dance.
Or they might since have died,
plucked for a vase inside.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2017 Susan L. Chast
Some flowers (plants) tolerate each other while others push and shove to show who is boss, much like us I expect! Funnily enough I am not fond of cut flowera inside the house, I prefer them free in the garden. Lovely poem Susan.
ReplyDeleteon one level it could be a story of true. Find one another. Always together. But then what did they miss out on by being so consumed with one another?
ReplyDeleteLife's chance meetings can be so magical and so cruel at the same time. I wonder if you wrote the "right" ending. Who knows?
ReplyDeleteThis happens. Both of them were destined to be near but not too close.
ReplyDeleteMy goodness this is gorgeously written, Susan!💞 I love the wisdom and wistful nature of your poem, which depicts the fact that those who think and act alike tend to stay together (for however long or short the period might be). In the end their pride and vanity consumes them to the point that they wither and wilt while refusing to change their views. I really enjoyed reading this one!💞
ReplyDeleteAhhhh. Those last lines are heartbreaking. Sometimes it's all for nothing.
ReplyDeleteThis had a little bit of a fairy tale to it with a touch of whimsy. But not all fairy tales have happy endings, and as you pointed out, there must be some movement, somewhere to begin to have the true tale unfold.
ReplyDeleteI love them both. What a wonderful write.
ReplyDeleteWow! What an incredible read. What your poem truly did was remind me that – each of us has meaning and we bring it to life. We live simply, we live abundantly and we live a life we are satisfied in. Our story is one of many...
ReplyDelete" Or they might since have died,
plucked for a vase inside."- Ahhh, who can contradict His plans!Beautiful....loved it, Susan!
What jumpoed out at me was "for fear they'd wake and lose the double take of perfection's thrill." Wow! I hope they are still standing below the hill. I never pick flowers any more, as I think they prefer the ground.
ReplyDeleteLuv this sweet tale of the daffodils and the mystery of not knowing at the end, give me space to wonder on
ReplyDeletemuch love...
We had thousands of naturalized narcissus and daffodils in our yard. They always seemed to play together well. They also glad seemed to give themselves up to our vases because they came up year after year.
ReplyDeleteWe do tend to bask in reflected glory.It's a societal norm, the daffadowndillies being the exception:) Interesting thought provoking poem.
ReplyDeleteoh dear what an anti climax...the poem flowed beautifully smoothly and then the sudden dramatic twist...it shook me a bit...I was totally involved..excellent poetic expressions,once again Dr Susan..You are a gifted poet
ReplyDeleteI love the intimate dance of these two, dancing on the wind, oblivious to the current of fate. Lovely poem.
ReplyDeletethey’ll learn to love the dance.
ReplyDeleteOr they might since have died,
plucked for a vase inside.
They had better be aware of what's coming. Loving oneself may not be safe!
Hank