What a lovely poem, Lisa! Reading through it the first time, and listening to your spledndid reading, what caught my attention were the beautiful, lyrical descriptions of birds, and I thought, this must be the prompt: Birds! Then I read the prompt and had an AHA moment! It is seeds that's the prompt! Of course--you are a wisdom guide who usually avoids the linear path! The poem is wonderful, and that last stanza is a poem unto itself:
"sky to ground,
ground to worm,
worm to throat,
throat to song,
song to sugar,
rising."
You reference music in the poem, and these lines are true music. Thank you for leading us in such a lyrical and musical way!
This poem goes perfectly with the first robin singing loudly (and in my mind joyfully) outside my window, reminding me that the earth goes on, inexorably. The seed will take root in the dirt that is last summer's leaves. Thank you!
I love this poem...like so many (of your poems), this one helps me see details of my world that I usually overlook. But this poem prompts me to give it a second or third take, and the results are delightful...
I've been thinking about the wisdom tale of the Two Wolves today, and creating a similar narrative to use tomorrow in church with bowls. Lookming at the bowls on the kitchen table, this poem came out in one swoop, and rather than edit and edit, I'll swoop it onto this wonderful space, where good seeds flourish.
Gorgeous twining of nature and philosophy, Lisa. Lovely, lovely work.
Ah
So wonderful watching
The feathered survivors
Of the dinosaurs
Invited to a party
On the Ides of March
Shall I wear a Toga
Et Tu Lisa
Just a gallows humor on the sunsetting of something rhyming with flew. 🌪️♐️♐️♊️
This made me laugh, Jim! Any poetry space needs some good humor, gallows and gallow free!
Thanks Larry.
Gallows humor is better than none...
What a lovely poem, Lisa! Reading through it the first time, and listening to your spledndid reading, what caught my attention were the beautiful, lyrical descriptions of birds, and I thought, this must be the prompt: Birds! Then I read the prompt and had an AHA moment! It is seeds that's the prompt! Of course--you are a wisdom guide who usually avoids the linear path! The poem is wonderful, and that last stanza is a poem unto itself:
"sky to ground,
ground to worm,
worm to throat,
throat to song,
song to sugar,
rising."
You reference music in the poem, and these lines are true music. Thank you for leading us in such a lyrical and musical way!
This is a beautiful poem, Lisa. Your whole post holds these opposites we are living with with such care. Thank you.
Lovely poem read so beautifully.
Like the seed,
We all must fall
To the barren ground,
Die the death
Of a jilted lover,
Cast away
By the one who
Birthed us,
Feel the sting
Of pelting rain
And lie in the darkness,
Forgotten entirely…
Until we are birthed anew,
Reaching for the light
Of humble hope,
Growing towards
A heaven where we
Are but one of many
Who bloom brightly
And produce
The fruit of Love.
This is beautiful, Korie. A wonderful emotional journey that taps into my heart in such a wholistic way. I truly love the ending:
"Growing towards/A heaven where we/Are but one of many/Who bloom brightly/And produce/The fruit of Love."
Just lovely. And it leaves me with hope even in these challenging times.
Thanks for the prompt, Lisa!
Also really like your poem and the idea of music bringing forth spring!
This poem goes perfectly with the first robin singing loudly (and in my mind joyfully) outside my window, reminding me that the earth goes on, inexorably. The seed will take root in the dirt that is last summer's leaves. Thank you!
Excellent timing for lovely thoughts!🥰
I love this poem...like so many (of your poems), this one helps me see details of my world that I usually overlook. But this poem prompts me to give it a second or third take, and the results are delightful...
I've been thinking about the wisdom tale of the Two Wolves today, and creating a similar narrative to use tomorrow in church with bowls. Lookming at the bowls on the kitchen table, this poem came out in one swoop, and rather than edit and edit, I'll swoop it onto this wonderful space, where good seeds flourish.
^
Empty bowls sit on the tables,
open like hearts of children,
ready to receive bright seeds of life.
^
One bowl gets filled
with the seeds of destruction,
anger, fear, hate, jealousy, guilt,
bigotry, isolation, fury and oppression;
^
Until, at last, it is too full,
and the toxic stew spills over,
scouring the land,
contaminating everything in its path,
no longer able to receive
the seeds that will set it free.
^
Another bowl seems empty,
though it has been filled with
love, joy, hope, gratitude,
compassion, kindness, justice and mercy.
^
These seeds, though they grow,
do not take up space.
They leave the bowl full of the unseen grace,
the beautiful wisdom that listens;
Knowing with these seeds,
the bowls just expand and grow,
always open for new seeds to flourish.