This is very beautiful, wonderful visuals. The last line is just plain magic, so pure and simple.
oo! ooo! oooo!
This poem just won third place in the IYFanguild 4th Quarter Awards for best poem (I’ve added some notes at the end in case it doesn’t make sense):
Miroku Meditates
Weblike, the strands reach up his arm,
further and further,
numbering his hours
in trails of of black laced shouki.
Sometimes, when he thinks he is all alone,
he rolls up his sleeve
and look at the trail,
the death warrant
creeping towards his heart,
ever nearer.
At those moments,
he lets the feelings of regret roll through him,
the pain of longing
wrapped up in the sound of her warm voice,
the fire in her eyes,
the touch of her strong hand,
and tries not to let his dreams of what might be
with his dark-haired fighter
rip out his heart.
“Life is suffering,” said the Buddha long ago.
Miroku, watching Sango from the corner of his eye
sighs,
and knows the truth about attachment.
______________________________________
(Backstory: Miroku is slowly dying from a type of supernatural poisoning, which traces a black line from his arm, moving towards his heart. If it reaches his heart, it will kill him. He has a curse on him that will kill him if the poisoning doesn’t kill him first. He’s madly in love with Sango, who is a woman fighter who he travels with. He’s also a Buddhist priest (raised as a monk since childhood, but he’s a man who loves women, maybe too much, nonetheless). If he can break the curse, he hopes to marry his beloved, but it’s still iffy if he’ll live long enough.
Anyway, I was surprised when this piece was nominated, and even more surprised that it placed.
Just goes to show you!