A Stone: One daily Observation
Last night El Prado mesa received life giving moisture in the form of a generous rain.
In the desert
Hot and dry
The parched earth waits
Umbrella isn’t often needed
On occasion
It rains so hard
Flash floods in the arroyos
The red umbrella
You carry
Could become a boat
___________
A Stone: One Daily Observation
Nothing to obstruct the view.
The Mountain reflects blood red
Each part of the sky competes for your attention
Sunset in the Western Sky
Marks the end of a perfect day
A reminder of the “gift” given
_____________
Sunday Whirl
Coyote Laughs Last
Residue rises to the top
Floats, bubbles
The wheel turns
New green into yellow
Coyote mocks man
Made of matter
Something from nothing
Skins hang from the rafters
In sickening silence
There is no truth
Coyote mocks man
The breeze passes
A small movement
A rustle of wrapping paper
A kiss behind the ear
Man sees nothing
Coyote mocks man
You snuggle your cloak
Tightly around your body
The vessel
Which holds the fire of hatred
Coyote mocks man
I sweep fervently
Gathering the trash along the roadside
Open the trunk
A small carry on case
Holds the remains
Each individually wrapped
Dust to dust
Coyote mocks man
A handful of stones: Several daily observations.
The late afternoon becomes the master’s canvas. In the last image there is the moon in the sky and it seems, below there is a light acting as echo. It seems to be something about the “joining of heaven and earth.” Native people could see this when they came to the edge of a stream and saw the sparkling mica in the water, they said it was “joining heaven and earth.”
_______________
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Little Girl’s Favorite Thing
Was to sweep
In the morning she would begin sweeping
Swept the sun on its journey through the day
Swept the cement walk
Swept away the rusty nails
Swept the path for crawling prophets
Tenderly she swept away the torment of scars
Made notes of all that needed to be swept
One day she swept herself away
__________
Carry On Tuesday #117 Prompt: Rupert Brooke’s poem. The opening line “If I should die, think only this of me.”
http://carryontuesdayprompt.blogspot.com/2011/08/your-prompt-for-tuesday-august-9th-this.html
She Sweeps a Path of Her Own
The poem began
“If I should die”
And I thought
Not “if” but “when” I die
For I will
It is so for each of us
The day draws nearer
I hope you will
“Think this of me”
She walked a narrow path
Of her own choosing
Followed no words of man
Gave her best
To all she met on the trail
Asked no more than
She was willing to give
Looked for beauty in each day
Her heart full of joy
Lived each day in gratitude
For the many gifts of life
Especially for you
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