The Truth About Tigers

occasional musings and free verse poetry, approximately

Language of Yesterday

Whispers thread through moonlight gaze,
wisdom woven deep in dusk’s tapestry.
As pages flutter like moth’s feathery wings,
ancient dreams entwine unspoken truths,
and secrets stitched in shadow
keep time suspended in our sight.
A thousand tomorrows are written
in the lost language of yesterday.

Written in response to Lillian’s prompt at dVerse Poets Pub, where she asked us to choose an image from Catrin Welz-Stein and let it inspire our poetry. Catrin is a graphic designer from Germany who creates unique mixed media artwork. To see more of her work, visit Catrin Welz-Stein’s website.

Poems

art, dream poem, dVerse, dVerse poets pub, owl, wisdom

Published by

Nick Allison

Responses

Debi

June 6, 2024 at 7:46 am

secrets stitched in shadow
keep time suspended in our sight…. what a lovely definition of reading

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1. Nick Allison
  
  June 6, 2024 at 7:57 am
  
  Thank you, Debi!
  
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sanaarizvi

June 6, 2024 at 9:25 am

“A thousand tomorrows are written in the lost language of yesterday,” … love this! ❤️❤️

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1. Nick Allison
  
  June 6, 2024 at 10:55 pm
  
  Thank you, Sanaa!
  
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lillian

June 6, 2024 at 1:06 pm

A beautiful piece! I am especially smitten by these words:
“As pages flutter like moth’s feathery wings,” – wonderful imagery.

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Nick Allison

June 6, 2024 at 10:56 pm

Thank you, Lillian!

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purplepeninportland

June 7, 2024 at 8:07 pm

“wisdom woven deep in dusk’s tapestry.”

This is filled with gossamer imagery.

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1. Nick Allison
  
  June 12, 2024 at 1:58 pm
  
  I love gossamer imagery! Thank you so much for the compliment!
  
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Björn Rudberg (brudberg)

June 9, 2024 at 9:19 am

Love those last two lines… tomorrow all grows from yesterdays.

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1. Nick Allison
  
  June 12, 2024 at 1:57 pm
  
  Indeed. Thank you, Bjorn!
  
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Melissa Lemay

July 6, 2024 at 7:55 pm

I love the pages fluttering like moth’s feathery wings.

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Dreamers And Drunkards – 6th February 2025 – 1994ever

February 5, 2025 at 11:52 am

[…] pier But still they linger, waiting their turnWhere once there was only black and white and secrets stitched in shadow Time passes and the shadows grow and universal dream-weavers, cry for the halcyon days, the jasmine […]

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