Gratitudes, Musings, Poems, Poetry Prompts

The End and the Beginning


Several years ago–we’ve been going through old photo files this weekend.

Here is my poem from the first of April:

Begin your road at the ending,
as the last pathway rounds the bend.
Dance to the lip of the chasm–
place your foot upon a bridge of rainbow.
Keep your eyes upon the distant wood,
your ears tuned to the song of undine and dryad.

Remember, your road is a circle,
and everywhere you are is the start of your journey.
Your road is of water, of vision, of air,
of heartbeat, illusion, and wisdom
a pathway of fire and smoke.

Feel how the sky under your feet holds you up,
how the earth at your back is made only of dreams,
how the only way forward is light and color,
how a distant harping draws you onward.

Here is today’s poem, on The World:

End your road at the beginning,
as the last pathway rounds the bend.
You stand on the lip of a whole new chasm–
dance out onto the bridge of gossamer web,
the wind in your hair, the sun warm on your face,
your ears attentive to whisper and blessing.

Are you back where you started? Do you
set your Fool’s feet on a whole new pathway?
What is your road made of? Of sunlight?
Of shadow? Of birdsong and cobweb?
Of wisdom and heartbeat, of fire and smoke?

Feel how the mystery you have encountered,
the secrets you’ve unearthed,
the knowledge you’ve longed for,
balance the bridge as it sways with your passing,
how a distant harping draws you onward.

No New Prompt for Tomorrow:
And so National Poetry Month comes to an end. I am weary, like my Fool, ready for the open road of the next cycle of the story, ready to relinquish the added work of the month, but I am sad, too, sorry to see the end of this cycle that has brought me new insight, new revelations. I am grateful, so grateful for the feedback I’ve received this month, a chance to hone and develop my craft more intentionally.

Tomorrow is Beltane, the ancient holiday marking the mid-point of spring, the wanton flowering season, the wild celebration of abandon and extravagant freedom. What will you give yourself to in the coming season? What direction will your passions lead you? What freedom can you claim for yourself in the days ahead? Throw off the cloaks and veils that hide you. Remove your corsets and girdles. Run barefoot in the fields. Roll in the grass. swing from the trees.

Tomorrow marks six weeks since I put out my little bundle into the weather and the elements. In the afternoon, I will bring it in and see how the elements have acted upon it, assess the wish I made six weeks ago, and begin to see what I can make from the pieces that I gathered.

Gratitude List:
1. Is there anything more visually and aurally satisfying than a bird with feathers the color of sunlight asking its sweet questions in a tiny tree with baby green leaves? Perhaps, when it flies on its rollercoaster of air to a redbud tree, twittering all the way. (I realize that twitter has become a vacuous word in recent years, but I refuse to relinquish it.)
2. Young voices.
3. Cleaning clutter. I could let myself be a little grumpy about how excited the kids suddenly are about cleaning up the floors, when every time I have mentioned it for months, they have hollered at me that I am trying to control their lives. Oh, but the satisfaction of a vacuumed floor!
4. Beginnings and Endings and Circles
5. Makloubeh for supper. And samosas. And cucumbers. Thanks, Mom!

May we walk in Beauty!

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