Yuri
He doesn’t know how to touch the earth—
Only how to plough the land
And sow the seeds
Of things that grow
But he doesn’t love the sprouts–
He waters daily,
Doesn’t wait for the tender green
To break through the cracked soil,
Doesn’t pause to watch them stretch
Toward a warm sun
He cannot feel.
His hands work the fields not with care,
But with the precision
His fingers leave behind
Patterns in the dirt
He doesn't bother to read.
He stands, watching his canvas
As it spreads out—
An expanse of green and gold,
But the harvest feels foreign,
Like something he’s never learned
To gather with joy.
He watches the wind move through the rows,
And in the rustling leaves,
He hears no echo of the laughter
Others seem to catch.
At night, the stars come out,
Cold and distant,
Like the faces he doesn’t quite understand—
Flickering in a language
He doesn't know how to speak.
But he tries,
He tries to listen,
Ears wide,
Hoping for the whisper
Of something he missed
Since he was born.
Something that could bloom
When he’s not grasping—
A seed buried deep,
That sprouts only with rain,
And flourishes with care,
Perhaps one day—
He’ll be graced with its gentle scent,
A quiet blessing,
Carried on the breeze..
@azurePond
Poor Yuri. The unheeding creature toiling at existence in a world of poetry and beauty they are surrounded by yet cannot appreciate, nor even really see for what it is. This blunted, stolid character, the pragmatic farmer. The gardener who goes through the emotions without being able to fall in love with the fruits of his efforts. We are shown their incomprehension, but then more of the face is shown to us. This is no beast of the field who labours in ignorance, but rather something far more deserving of our pity. For the subject does indeed strive, (as ineffective as their efforts may be), and we are left knowing that WE are the lucky ones who can appreciate this winder canvas, whilst Yuri keeps looking on without seeing, listening without hearing, searching for something he doesn't know or can possibly understand. Yet the narrator offers hope, that one day it might be different. A hope we are encouraged to share as we look softly upon Yuri and their small world as we look in from the outside.
I found the character amazing. It reminded me very much (though it is not the same at all, it just struck a chord with me) about the novel "Flowers for Algernon".
@BastionKnight Thank you so much for the wonderful and thoughtful analysis (I feel like a broken record here, so I’m sending you virtual flowers, (if they’re accepted )💐 and lots of good vibes!). Yes, we’re really lucky to be able to appreciate the world around us, especially poems and nature. Poor Yuri, indeed. And wow, comparing my humble work to Flowers for Algernon? Now I get why actors who win Oscars say, "I’m deeply humbled by this award," while what’s actually going through their heads is probably more like, “Yesss, I made it!!!!”
@azurePond I hope one-day yuri will find happiness ❤ such a powerful poem ❤ it's sad to know people live like that, but surprising how many do🙁 your poems are so cleverly written, they really make you think ❤gives you a giant tiny hug ❤
@Tinywhisper11 Aww, that’s so sweet! 💖 Yuri-s deserve all the happiness, hopefully one day! Big hugs right back at ya! 🤗❤