Beyond

there are some very haunting images here--
the waves that lap with greedy tongues--
the precipice that haunts with shuffling feet--
Very unsettling.
Gives me a little sense of Emily Bronte--Wuthering Heights, the first night the stranger spent in that haunted room, in the haunted house on the heath.
You asked for honest critique, so my thought:  the unsettling quality gets diluted for me because I can't really "locate" the speaker / situation. I imagine something like standing on the shore in the dark, but that's just me trying to be in the world of the poem.
Overall:  enjoyed the haunting details / images.

Thank you sincerely for reading, and for the honest feedback; it’s truly appreciated.

Dear L,

This write, for me, shadows every thing that makes me wonder how I can still believe in hope and find joy when all else around me is crumbling spiritually and physically. I felt as though I was being guided by this ethereal spirit. Lovely as usual. H🌷

What strikes me as most important is that we still do.  Thank you so much, Honoria 💜

I understood this perfectly; I think we've all been on a precipice of doubt while clinging to a belief. I love the form. I almost wish the title was Still.

I’ve been lurking in the CC competition thread and have been reading Margaret Atwood ‘s poetry for days now lol.  I love her style so much.  Her poem “Variations on the Word Love” had me really thinking, but I got caught up in her repeating style in  “Variations on the Word Sleep”.  My head is too busy to write a piece for the comp, but this is my ode to her nonetheless.  Thank you for reading and for the kind words, Ahavati.  

It's a shame you won't be entering the comp, Luna! You definitely capture her essence. And, yes, she is an amazing poetess.

Hope springs eternal and something always reaches back from beyond the unknown