Echo And Narcissus, John William Waterhouse (1903)
Echo’s Lament
I am not yet ready to live
and yield my love to another
I have not yet explored
the wonders of choice
having none to choose from
other than my unanswered desire
My waning heart cannot see
beyond the beauty by the pond
who will not see me
as I diminish with daylight
you won’t see even less
I will not waste time
embracing another
You are kind and fair
but reflection can never compare
So much the better;
had I caught your eye
Your gaze reflected
upon my echo
repeated back
into your flawless eyes
reflecting into the echo
chambered within my
unrequited heart
would echo my loss
onto your being
reflecting an infinite wound
and I adore you too much
to even risk destroying a world
where you can only find love
at the surface of you
I’d sooner die than crush
even the façade of you and
I’d sooner die than live
without my beloved
I’d sooner die and wither
like crystalized narcissus
in a December evening frost
I’d sooner die in a winter whisper
heard only by the lonely
and I’d sooner die
sooner still
I’d sooner die
and fall
into nothing
but sound
I’d sooner die
sooner…
die
** *
Written for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Narcissus (Vanity/Narcissism), hosted by Susan. I chose to give voice to Echo, the mountain nymph, because of course I did.
Because of course I did.
I did.
Hephaestus’ Waste & Cosmic Rubble 
#/media/File:John_William_Waterhouse_Echo_And_Narcissus.jpg){kind=link}
Barry, this is beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks trE. 🙂
LikeLike
A reflection is so intangible. There is nothing there to hold. And it is so fleeting. It will be different the next time we look, if only by a bit. But yes, when we do look, the wound is definitely there.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I agree. Thank you. 🙂
LikeLike
I love your reflective Echo, and how you use echo as technique. The song is cool, too. There is an echo and a comparison, I’ve noticed since my love passed away, that provides a definite hesitation to explore anything else in depth. It would take something overwhelmingly good to overcome that. But Echo, poor echo, cursed by the Gods! Left to her own, she might have become strong and lively instead!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Susan. I offer my deepest condolences on your loss. I imagine I would respond similarly.
LikeLike
Admiring your perspective on the myth of Echo, Barry ~ The refrain was also effective in emphasizin the echoes of lament and despair ~
LikeLike
” an infinite wound”…As I was reading the poem my eyes would not move from these three words. Love’s wound can’t be gauged. Love how you’ve used the myth.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you liked it!
LikeLike
Pingback: Day 21 – Nemesis Shrugged | Hephaestus’ Waste & Cosmic Rubble