I have spoken to clutches of green grass
waiting for me to speak to them
as they appeared in between cracks
and cold stones, when a determined sun
poked warm fingers in under skim of dirt
to coax them to come, join in the talk of spring
for me, a garden of promises
that needed speaking to
in order to grow
and I was given leaves that danced like children
at their mother’s skirts
and I talked the talk of bright new promises
until they grew strong and big enough to lap
up dew of dozens of tears I had need of depositing
in the palms of their little hands
in that greening, they proffered
shade in which to whisper budding secrets
and like schoolgirls, they fattened to become curvy
and Evish in their slower step and wildered innocence
while digesting my dearest dreams
by summer, while hidden by beauty of a big garden,
I sung to each new petal, each new cup of kindly hearing
and they ate my music as if they had starved for those very words
since the day they were born and their fragrant hum
and liquid laughter became orchestrated chorus
behind my careful solo of how serendipity
plays in the shadows and strums extra bars to everyone’s songs
come fall, I sighed, overburdened as stem with heavy fruits,
and saw them leaning, too, beneath a mysterious chill
that seemed to come out of someone else’s mouth,
and we slumped, full of dread and dear, quiet, moans
that there was fate talking in tongues around us
of course, winter walked hard on our sharp-tongued anger
that flowers can hear what gods can not. If there were any tears,
they were frozen at our roots; if there were regrets, they were tucked
into our sunken cheeks; if there were moans, we had maintained
some sense of majesty. Such is our way; those of us who do not speak
for fear of losing; knowing we will lose, absolutely willing
to rend our garments and ash our brows, gathering up every bit of grace
it takes to let love go its way without a word
Author notes
jpg ginko7 http://www.flickr.com/photos/ray777/3290654776/in/set-72157604591504427/
Prompt: i found myself in love with no one to tell it to....
In a list
- Beautiful Words by Beautiful People I Know • next in list
- A Woman's Writhe • next in list
- the Nature Of Things • next in list
A contest entry
- Overnight Quickie-10 poets by Cannonsfire.
1500 points, ended October 20, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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i am without words to comment on your poems....but i always feel every word is bleeding from my own heart....
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Reading your beautiful pieces is like going to my favorite gallery or museum, and feasting my eyes and senses on my most-loved images and ideas-taken- form.....you make them take word-form.....
Thank you as always, most treasured powerful woman-poet. :-)
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I love the green beginnings, and sigh over the fruits, but then it takes courage to pull up the vines when they have taken too much frost, the leaves wither, and are just hanging on like barren wisteria . It's been too long since I've been on your page, my friend. This is gorgeous and I'm so glad I found it here to read!
My eyes teared up reading this one.
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This is an in depth look at the prompt, perhaps even more than I was expecting from it, there is a deeper meaning in these words for each season explained, thank you for this entry C
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There is no one else who can paint a single season in the pure, brilliant light of your pen, my Friend. There is always such depth and wisdom, such experience and sage advice to be found within your song. Good luck in the contest, Scribe.
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