Metempsychosis

Brady [Writing Center tutor] and I discussed a lot of things regarding the second stanza of this piece. The poem naturally trails into a more philosophical realm during this stanza, and I received help in how to effectively convey what the point of the poem is. Sometimes this, as in prior pieces, included the bolstering of ambiguity that works but more often in the addition of concrete non-abstract imagery to ground the reader. What inspired me philosophically to write this poem is my belief in the interconnectedness of nature; that every living thing is kindred on some fundamental level.

I, the rambler, trailed adrift in the copse.
    My wildered path a maze no map had yet solved,
For with the sylvan sea my soul convolved;
    Twined with furrowed bark and the spice of hops.
My waning breath became the dewy drops,
    The thrum of my heart into oak dissolved,
My mind lightened as autumn fronds evolve,
    And mine eyes were the crowns that gazed aloft.

So, who now, is it that thinks and speaks?
    The wanderer is but a dim dream of yore.
My wind-blown boughs and trunks of ochre teak
    Know only the candied saps from which they pour,
And that wayfarers knowing not what they seek,
    Soon become soft leaves upon my treen shore.

Freddy is an English major with a concentration in Creative Writing. He is an ardent fan of Romantic poetry, Weird fiction, and Horror fiction. He prefers short stories or novellas for they are conducive to his attention span. If he is not writing, reading, playing video games, or making music, then he is probably eating a bowl of cereal.