I furrow the ground for a few words,
turning them up like turnips
plumb and round and white from the dark,
waiting for this moment
of cool air and green leaves
to awaken into light
and rise with desire;
food for the soul
in the last days of winter.
yes, Don, and we shall see what “turns up” out of the chaos of creative process. Thank you. And thanks to the artist for his dynamic creation.
Thank you, Don. Interesting image of poetic process. In return, here is one of mine, from late winter:
The Heart of a Winter Bear
A great bear of a storm blew in last night.
I have seen storms would freeze your blood.
This was not one of them.
More like a hibernating creature,
Starving and lean,
Unable to raise its wasted head
Against unconquerable spring,
It shook a load of desperate winter
Over the westward ranges.
But here in the shelter of tomorrow we
Felt only the sullen swish of its wet tail.
I think the heart of a winter bear
Beats bravely in us all,
Forcing us from the comfortable cave
To make a choice.
That choice is made by night
And blazoned forth in day.
We can embrace the inevitable melt
And grow in morphic grandeur
To an astonished opening of bliss.
Or we can growl and grovel
In a fantastic lean and hungry loathing.
It is a choice of courage —
Courage is the great bear’s heart —
Courage to rebel or courage to receive,
Courage to die or live.
Spring will not lose the battle.
— Dorian, 4/17/2016
Soft Spring has come at last to our home. With it comes that which was planted in Autumn, nurtured during Winter, and ripe for the harvest of awareness in my life. Oh my, such a harvest. So, I take a deep breath and handle each one in turn.
After all, they are what I planted.
Brilliant, Brother… lights my day…
Thank you Don, you invoke a simple but powerful image. Dust off the dirt and reveal the genuine.
Don…..awaiting the muse….cannot be hurried….(smile)
I have to say, I don’t like turnips, but I do like this little poem……