Petrichor Poem by Smoky Hoss
Petrichor
Like the earth,
we all carry a scent
deep within us,
awaiting release-
It lays inside,
enfolding our purpose,
only needing the spirit of water
to announce the clemency of death-
There is some kind of truth,
a balance of elemental being,
where one discovers the necessity of life
bound in the joining of earth and rain;
where aroma is found to be a passageway
through the veil
hanging between the transitory and the eternal;
where the smell of freedom
is the release of the soul.
We, the dust of dust, get caught up
into the complexities of so many whirlwinds,
mixing, blending, evolving,
and finally becoming the fragrance
filling God's nostrils,
rising on the rain of salvation's sweet scent-
Like the earth, so dry,
sometimes life goes stale and stagnant
for a season;
dries right up, to the edge
of death's door, awaiting a release
through the spirit of water.
Look up.
Not so far off now, clouds
rolling in yonder,
catch the aura on the wind.
It smells like rain-
part 2--- I am so proud to know you and call you friend---and read your poetry and enrich my life by so doing
Susan, I feel unworthy of your beautiful adulation, except for, I feel exactly the same towards you! Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Smoky, I had to look up 'petrichor'—thanks for introducing me to the word. For another take on scent or fragrance, you might enjoy my poem 'Cedar Investigation.' -Glen
Renewal....the knowlesge that we are not dry eternally. Fantastic verse with a stunning, powerful last stanza.
Like a great film with multi layers, your magnificent poem cannot be fully appreciated in just one reading. So, I read it a couple of times and was awed by its brilliance. Smoky sits on top of the mountain!
Thank you beyond words, I am deeply touched by your wonderful comment.
"It smells like rain..".. it sure smells! Loved it dear. Nice poem, nice flow of thoughts, beautiful flow of words… enjoyed.
beautifully written; something great feelings throwing upward when read the poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 4:37:58 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I like the line 'We, the dust of dust'. It is said that we came from dust and will return to dust. That's why I don't dust. It might be somebody I know.
I love the way you think; I may never dust again... it could, as you say, be an old pal, or even more importantly, an old horse!