Posting my first poem here. I would like feedback please.

I wrote this today:

Sacred

A spring bud

dipped in wax...

put on the alter

for meditation.

Anticipating fruition

daily, weekly, monthly,

yearly.

Time suspended

yet moving along.

I wait...

living, learning,

loving, lasting

--listening--

My heart waits

for the harvest

of dreams.

Yeah, I guess I spelled alter wrong, maybe.  But I guess poetic license gives me the right to spell words how I want to, doesn't it?  I think I will leave it the way it is for now.

I liked the poem. Though as I read it alter stuck out. Please let me know when you write more.

Thanks

A sacred poem for a sacred time. A poignant piece for the season.  The beginning of Spring is marked by holidays – holy days – around the world where a day is dedicated to offer a suspended moment in time - to regain a balanced perspective. Equally poised between the pits of Winter to the heights of Summer, we can look at the punishing Past and the promising Future from the pregnant Now.

The bud on the DPenn’s altar lies dormant (dipped in wax) as her dreams are suspended in her heart. They are the same: wondering, hoping (for meditation, anticipation) for what Tomorrow will bring (fruition, harvest) when Tomorrow never really ever arrives (Time suspended). But the one never leaves the present (I wait…), the ever-flowing moment only becomes fuller, riper… with experience (living, learning, loving, lasting).  

This piece tells me her heart waits for a cue… something/someone: a message? a voice? (--listening-- her own emphasis on this) to free her soul (heart + dreams = soul)… to alter this stasis. One suspects the glowing warmth of sincerity, not the burning flames of passion.

Here’s why: DPenn chose – consciously or not – wax, rather than ice. Ice is an extreme – it is cold and damages that which it holds in its firm grip. Wax is organic, and soft – a nurturing substance used to shelter & embrace new life.

Good luck with that, Dianna. I mean that.

Thanks for the comments.  I noticed after I wrote the poem that sacred would be scared if you transposed the second and third letter.

The word alter does have meaning in this poem.  Also if you transpose the first two letters of alter you get the word later.  I love playing with words and yes I am often vague and ambiguous.  I don't know if that is good or bad.  It just is.