sitting inside the hourglass
of the time
given this body
i can sense the gentle sifting
of the tiny grains of those who came before me
i can feel the outstretched arms
of those who opened door after door
for me
until i saw
my self
and tore my way into this place
this place
where i am filled
so quickly to the brim
of my selfness
with flowers that sing
to my holy otherness
hovering
in its crimson cloak filled with
the tumbled togetherness of my ancestors
inside the me of this steven person
this is linked to tess kincaid's magpie tales page where other writer's responses
to the visual prompt above can be linked to
artwork Red Roofs, Marc Chagall, 1954
16 comments:
every considered word you have written here is a joy..i esp. like 'flowers that sing'...i work with flowers every day and their singing transient beauty is why i do it!!!..xx
I too believe in flowers that sing...and doors opening by others for me!
Your poems sings beautifully
Hugs
SueAvidersio fleassisnn
This brings comfort with the hope that "ancestors inside the me..." are watching and guiding. I want that to be so, but I want to be worthy of those others......
Beautiful interpretation!
The tumbled togetherness of my ancestors...oh I love that...and that Steven person, too...
... filled to the brim of my selfness ... can't stop thinking about that! Wonderful, your Magpie.
Love the thoughts and truths in this beautiful poem! Our ancestors do play a great part in what we become ourselves. :-)
kay, i very admire chagall's work and this one has so many timely images for me that i lost my way inside it. i could wish that my writing was more focussed and considered but the exercise is as much about slam poetry as it is about being clever!!!! steven
sueann thankyou for your kind and resonant words!!!! steven
rick - i love the idea of all the people who have goine into opening the many doors of this place up for me to emerge into it, having some modicom of presence in my life. i love that you add the layer of worthiness! steven
tess! it is lovely to have you here. gifts . . .a day of gifts!!! steven
helen . . . . each day is so very like that . . . filled to the brim of my selfness . . . steven
hello carrie . . . i beleive they do . . . and i in their becoming. as i represent the future to them, they were bound to press the hands of the present into the reaching back hands of the future!! steven
You've made this poem intimate and I like how you made that link - for your past and your present.
Lovely gentle flowing words. Reminds me of the Rune , Othala
Loved this "the tumbled togetherness of my ancestors
inside the me of this steven person" - loved all of it!
Anna :o]
Your last two lines say it loud ,for all of us. ♥
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