So they be called — Majestic Wings
Those painful impressions of a painting
Surrounding hearts and thoughts and winds
Who bloom our candles light holy anointing.
It’s always the autumns wings who hurt,
Those wings who cry and die together,
So they will rise again in springs life court,
The wings of fall, of High and of Forever .
Through ages , these wings follow routines
And cycles of their fade and of rebirth;
Each time, they lay their lifes curtain
In augmentative dimensions of remorse.
Impressionist colors of autumn and rebirth
Complete the parade of tragic proportions
In galleries of museums where they all fell asleep
To dream of a perfect recall of tomorrows illusions.
Todays poetry contest submission was written by Catalina.
Do you think it could possibly be one of the best new poems of 2013?