Blue holds hue to faraway earth,
blushing white
to flower's resistance;
our shrouded cloud,
the ocean, swelling.
God is never
far away,
while moving seed's oblique migration,
there lives a season, beyond our reason,
as now in never;
these times, when hope
is severed brain to growing stain of wind,
in lash.
Tide must thrash
inside your worthy hollow.
I have not the pretense of presentation,
or perfect strokes of painted face,
explaining age,
as graceful gathering;
when lust is bursting skin of lathering sea,
consuming pride,
tearing lips from child's last nipple
in one more metaphor.
But I know of faith,
beyond obsenity,
leading space in little steps,
this life to bare,
as stronger stare to inner circle,
clairvoyant quivers
of love that shivers,
in spine to stand,
through straighter body,
these closer looks into the endings,
and our naked trails
of poetic mendings.
In a list
A contest entry
- SpiritMother's Home Devastated By Hurricane Ike by maa.
999 points, ended September 29, 2008, 7 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
I love your verse ...
and I am happy to receive it on the occasion of this contest for spiritmother, since I have started to miss your precious and enlightening poetic offerings in my recent contests ...
thank you for this truly touching and spirit-infused gift of grace ...
maa
-
"But I know of faith,
beyond obsenity,"
Yes, so many people who turn their backs on faith and God, not realizing that spirituality is a basic human need. This is beautiful writing...you are right, God is everywhere...and you were given a talent, my friend.
~ Nicolette
-
Words cannot express the feelings that have flooded my soul since the disaster, but knowing such love from physical strangers yet kindred spirits, has uplifted my soul. Thank you dear brother for the wonderful words you send from the heart.
SM
-
This is so beautiful and filled with compassion, as is your heart and maa's
Such a sigh this brings and warmth
Lynda
-
well written full of good detail and takes one to time and place
-
You're most correct, of course, my dear Friend. He is only a thought, a glimpse, a whisper away. Helen will love this, Scribe. So will Marion. I know I do.
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
