A Message

Today’s challenge at Real Toads in Over/Under/Through.  I am not sure my poem fits this a hundred percent, but I’m going to go with the idea that it’s close enough.  The inspiration of the poem was my walk in pasture earlier this week.  As I sat on the large stone by the waterway and noticed the roots of the trees peeking from the soil looking like bleached bones, I kept hearing “go back to your roots.”  I have no idea what it means, but it certainly did make an impact.  The images are from that same walk.

torn from the earth eons ago,
ancestors lie beneath the land
rain falls, soaks into their soul;
seasons whisper to my heart–
go back to your roots.

ancient wisdom leaches into
the rich, black native soil
old bones reach out to me
from beyond the grave–
go back to your roots.

water that washed bones white
and fed the trees and grass
runs through my veins;
carrying a message across time–
go back to your roots.

layer upon generation of experiences
a foundation set in stone
all the way to solid bedrock
winter winds howl a message–
go back to your roots.

Necromancy

I am once again combining prompts.  The challenge at d’Verse Poets was to write a Tilus  poem, the new form created by Kelvin S-M. It has one two-line stanza with 6 and 3 syllables.  The second stanza is one, one syllable line.  The subject of the poem should reflect nature. At Real Toads, we were to use the Black Forest as our inspiration.

Fog

whisper beyond the veil
twilight calls

death

***

Or we could just go fun…

 

black forest cherry cheese
cake dessert

divine

 

 

 

A Black and White Poem

I seem to have totally missed last week, so I’ve decided to use the Let’s Write in  Black and White poem challenge posted by Kerry last Wednesday for my open link inspiration.  I’m also sharing with the open link for d’Verse Poets.

Sunset in black and white

delicate branches etched
against the fall sky
limb lowered in grief
at the travesty unfolding;
disappearing sun staring
at bucolic scene below;
nature’s beauty stolen
sold to the highest bidder,
a void in the landscape
no longer solid as a rock.
What might be taken next
proving nothing is forever?

***

The black and white story behind the poem is a very large rock being taken from my pasture and sold without my permission.  I’m sure he feels he did nothing wrong as it was a rock he dug out of my hayfield.  I’d like to think he simply forgot the conversation in which I told him I didn’t want the rocks removed rather than the lure of money.  I’m still trying to get my rock back.

Goats on RockThe one on the left is the one I’m missing.