December feels like its slipping away, where the days meld into each other that I’ve lost track of the day. I almost forgot it was Friday and it was my turn to post for Poetry Friday as hosted by Carol from Carol’s Corner.
Poetry, I’ve always felt is, first and foremost, the language of the soul. The first time one reads poetry, meaning and sense isn’t as important as its impact to the soul. While I’ve loved poetry since I was 11 years old, I rarely understood the meaning of the words I read. Most often I was simply moved. Today, I’d like to share a poem that spoke to my soul first before it made any sense to me.
The Light Wraps You
by Pablo Neruda
The light wraps you in its mortal flame.
Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way
against the old propellers of the twilight
that revolves around you.
Speechless, my friend,
alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead
and filled with the lives of fire,
pure heir of the ruined day.
A bough of fruit falls from the sun on your dark garment.
The great roots of night
grow suddenly from your soul,
and the things that hide in you come out again
so that a blue and palled people
your newly born, takes nourishment.
Oh magnificent and fecund and magnetic slave
of the circle that moves in turn through black and gold:
rise, lead and possess a creation
so rich in life that its flowers perish
and it is full of sadness.
Hope you enjoy the poem. Happy Holidays to Everyone!
Gathering Books 
Neruda always sounds so passionate, Myra, whether I understand exactly where he’s taking me or not. Beautiful poem.
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