Incantation
Sacred is a forest
stillness of fluttering leaves
light playing against dead leaves
sweet decay and dappled light
kneel into silence there
it grows in your heart
But you are a woman
soft
real as a raven’s croak
source of all waters
your hips
alive with the roiling
salty or fresh you carry life
you carry flood
and no promise
to stay within your banks
From this cloth
we weave our days
thinking that it is only scenery
thinking to ornament ourselves
perhaps
thinking we decide the pattern.
I am the fog
that nestles in redwood
forests alive in my secret
communion
hidden from view
I am the sun that burns it away.
June 17th, 2008 at 12:54 pm
Powerful. Nice to see you again!
June 17th, 2008 at 1:25 pm
“thinking we decide the pattern” :-> of course my favorite line. this is lovely. And so was the piece you linked.
June 17th, 2008 at 10:55 pm
I know I always say this in one way or another but I love your imagery. The words pull me into a vision that is felt within me and outside of me also.
Beautiful!
June 18th, 2008 at 1:12 am
“I am the sun that burns it away”
Love this.
June 18th, 2008 at 7:44 am
Hey Rox, yeah, I split for a bit.
Thanks Dale, I thought that line sounded like you.
I loved the piece I linked, it was beautiful. (Hi Sugar! Thanks for stopping by.) It inspired me to write this which reminded me of the way poems travel around your blog circle sometimes.
Thank you Anabel.
June 18th, 2008 at 9:49 am
Hello! I am writing to see
if you wanted to contribute to
an afghan for Rachael at yarn-a-gogo
in sympathy for losing her mom. I
am trying to collect 8 inch knit
squares.
Please contact me at knitdelaware
ATyahooDOTcom and let me know.
Thanks! Krista M
June 18th, 2008 at 9:36 pm
Ahh, amazing. You have a great voice. Wonderful.
June 19th, 2008 at 6:22 am
Hey Devo! Thank you.