Earth-song birth is raining ice,
bearer,
bending bow to silver cracking,
America,
pruning tree in winter whacking,
removing shoulder's slivered ego.
Who am I now,
but twice-broken poet writing pain,
rebounding slice through meadow's heartbeat,
aching stroke, in painted cloak,
my wordless phases of crescent drops
lopping lines in universal praises,
where gratitude sways sweet strings of healing?
It is never love that leaves with tear,
revealing spirit's wetter sighs
to blue eyes growing glance from river's fearful soul-reflection,
when year is colder,
deeper ending,
concealing truth to taste in perfect petal;
the sting of red-laced-scented, air-brushed lips,
hiding in waves of ruptured skin,
absorbing body crushed by pillow,
for what we are,
or might have been.
So many promises cross my native night,
moon sets sail to rendered orbit,
sorbet,
softer raspberry blushing black-stone squeezing,
tide to silhouetted shells of distant sun
freezing inside our sizzled ocean.
Here is solitude to wake the weary,
humanity spoiled away from prayer,
in lair abandoned to loan gone south,
where song expires in unbrushed mouth,
these freshened sounds of homeless hope
shaking ground with throbbing treasure,
for what is stone to throw in pleasure;
pond grown still to rippled rings,
three kindred crowns
in offered sounds of breath
abounding wild in simple things,
when sleep rolls dream
for what strife brings.
Author notes
Turtle Island is what the ancient indigenous called North America...
A contest entry
- Poetry That Matters by Cupcrazy.
3500 points, ended February 6, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Beautifully written piece, the imagery is quite spectacular but it is the message that is so filled with emotion. The sense of wandering and of connection, drifting apart and then coming together invades this piece. The reflections of both visual and mind where the past is captured, pulled up and examined to find the seams and tears that hold us all together yet let us slip like threads into the wind while remaining tethered to the stillness of oneself. Lovely work here! Hugs, Bunny
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As always, such remarkable phrasing. "rebounding slice"--what a totally creative, hopeful description of healing. If I follow you here, this poem speaks beautiful of how we are connected, and can both find and bring healing, not inspite of your brokenness, but instead because of it. I love that idea of seeing your reflection in the water. It seems to be an intentionally ambiguous statement... you have to ask is the speaker fearful, or is the river fearful.? Both have been harmed, both have reason to be leary, both require healing. Anyway, the connection is definitely there between the speaker/companion, and the natural surroundings. What i really think MATTERS here is that feeling of "holding out" for the better, in spite of the pruning, the crushing, the expired song, the stilled pond...the idea of still having that "abounding wild." That was my take on these beautiful words, anyway.
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