Tell me what this poem is saying to you
What’s the message do you think? When leaves
turn autumn bright, fall to an upturned bowl.
Is it fall or flight?
Memories of quenching rain and radiance,
brilliant sap twisting buds and
here, disembodied snow become earthly
fruit, another language feeding roots.
Not all bowls are right being right-side up.
Here’s this phrase, Grandmother made a mistake.
Now, how’d that glyph land inside of you?
Language is immediate. Either side of that
synapse, swift limb to lace of root.
Stories move like water does.
How far can a voice imagine itself?
Tell me what this poem is saying to you.
Do your fingers trace the words?
Do your lips trace the sounds?
No sense of feeling goes idyl here.
When buddha hand touched the earth
compassion became a bell.
Here’s the rake. Here’s the dust for your shoes.
Make affection of these leaves.
Tell me what this poem is saying to you.
neil reid © january 2013
comments:
This poem began before the prompt, but seemed mostly well enough to be companion to the prompt. Rather “drafty” as it doesn’t go really where the initial image wanted to go, but maybe another day. (busy head thinks too much) (listens less) But doesn’t that actually seem the hardest gradient writing… getting myself out of the way? Does to me. (OR, one might ask… Where’s Waldo?!!)
Written for the We Write Poems prompt #135, Peas in a pod. Write a poem from a gathering of “ideas”.
bearly audible 