QUEST FOR PEACE

trees
I flew to the stars
shared the vacuum
that's their space - 
chaos bothered me.

I ran to the woods
lost the world among the trees - 
the rustling leaves
brought the world's cries to me.

I rushed to the battlefields
muzzled the guns
stopped the wars
healed some wounds
dried some tears 
still - 
peace eluded me.

I look for peace 
in the crowd
and in the silence 
of a prayer -
the disquiet within
clang in my soul.


For:  WPC:  Quest
Dverse Poets' Pub:  Open Link Night

THE MURDER OF CROWS

feather
Black feathers fell from the skies
the ground cracked under the weight
of the blood-soaked plumes
but shoulders only shrugged
the feathers were from crows -
No one cries
for carrion feeders
who have neither  charm
nor song 
but incantations of dark omens. 
Shoulders shrugged 
as dark feathers rained -
the skies are blue again -
until beneath their feet
the ground 
at last 
caved in.


~~~~
Last August, while vacationing in Maine, I noticed several huge bird feathers on the ground.  At that time (and to this day), news of summary execution of drug users and pushers in the Philippines dominated the headlines.  That bothered me a lot.  When Victoria's DVERSE prompt came up, I thought of combining the two images.  
For:  DVerse Poetics:  Come Fly with Me

CELLO CARESS

When I run empty
I fill up with music
the one where the cello sings
and caresses my spirit
with its voice
low and sonorous
gently calling pieces of me 
to life
and lifting me up
tenderly
like a lover holding me by my hands
moving  me  across the room
by a slow dance
towards the window bathe in light
there I lift my eyes
where the music glides
up towards the skies
there I float
on a bed of clouds
and meld 
with the breath 
of existence

This piece and The Swan by St. Saens, which I was listening to prior to this, inspired this little piece of poem. Listening to cello and violin pieces are a favorite way of mine to relax after a long day. I hope you enjoyed the music.🙂

A TALE OF A HIKING SHOE

old-shoe
While walking in the park two weekends ago, we found this old shoe hanging on a broken branch of a pine tree. It must have been tough finishing the trail with only one shoe on.
Someone lost a shoe while hiking in the woods
I do not know how he continued, walking over
gnarled roots and pebbles.  Did he step on a worm
or on a slug; or a deer or a bug?
What scared him so to leave his shoe behind?
A troll or a bear?  A chipmunk or a hare? 
Did the park alarm ring while he was having fun
and he had to scoot  lest his car became a pumpkin
what did he expect to find, 
a fairy looking for a husband
or she, a centaur looking for his maiden?
So far nobody claimed the sad laced-up  shoe
to find his or her love lasting and true. 


DAILY POST:  HIKE

AUTUMN

fallen-leaves
 Leaves
 Don't fall
 Without you
 Turning. Hang on
 When the wind blusters
 Hold tight when the rain pours
 Watch the geese fly south. Behold
 The sun go dim or even wait
 For Halloween. Do anything but
 Fall without unfurling Autumn's banner.

Autumn is Good Friday's empty altar
Stripped of flowers, and colors, and life
Waves of purple draperies  hide
All glory from mortal eyes.
Our feet make leaden steps
Crush the ground below
Leaves crumble
No more
Show.

THE FALLEN SEED

fallen-applesThis fallen seed is the hope of winter
carrier of life in its death
breath secreted in the frozen womb
tomb concealing its rebirth.
Mirth bides its time to spring
Ringing bells peal the resurrection hymn
Poems immortalize the glorious dawn
when mourning veils are lifted.
Afflicted hearts soar to the heavens
Incense perfume the air once more
Store in the hearts this promise:
This fallen seed is the hope of winter.

august_windfalls_-_geograph-org-uk_-_533902
The photo, by Pauline Eccles,  is the inspiration for this poetry prompt by Jane DOugherty - Circles and Cycles.  I wrote a second one after the first piece that I made for this prompt turned out to be not a circular poem.  Somehow, I missed some important part of the instructions on how to write a proper circular poem.  I am glad for the mistake though because I got another chance to write another piece.  :-)

AUTUMN’S HYMN

yellow maple
The wind plays Autumn's hymn
Plaintive floating in the air
above the treetops
Through fields
Of plump pumpkins
And golden grains.
Above the clouds
There flows
The staccato call of departing geese
While down below 
the laden trees
drum their fruit against the solid earth.
Then at last the russet leaves
join the swelling symphony
humming their rustling tune
while pirouetting down to memory.
when all but the naked trees are gone
and cold, dark silence reigns - 
the wind plays Autumn's hymn.
august_windfalls_-_geograph-org-uk_-_533902
This is the photo prompt for Jane Dougherty’s Poetry Challenge #48: Circles and Cycles. The picture is by Pauline Eccles.

 

For this poetry prompt, Jane wants us to write a circular poem - one which ends the way it began.