Golden glow transforms
grassy meadow – Earth giggles
with fantastical delight.
(For Eugi’s Weekly prompt: meadows.
Photo my own.)
Tag: Earth
Whose Earth Is This?
Whose Earth is this?
ask the trees reaching
to kiss mountainous sky.
Who cares for her?
ask the creatures all,
grateful for her bounty.
Machines rumble
forests fall – a stand
for progress answers none.
(Image my own.)
Dreaming Archetypal
She rises from the river –
a culmination of my prayers
and tears, I suppose
Eyes glow with a ungodly hunger
Is she predator or night prowler
I wonder, frozen from fright
Disinterested in ego, ignoring
perfection, she multiplies
her energy frenetic
I try to harness her,
tame the primal, raw force
fear I cannot house her
But she is no one’s property
moves with fluidity, a shapeshifter
mythical in her stride
Like Eve, she is original sin
searching for deeper meaning
beyond this man-made paradise.
(Image and poem originated in a dream. Not sure I did the message justice but it begged delivery.)
Nature of Age
Evening beckons
sun’s fiery glow
mocks my unrest
I am knee deep
in river’s flow
no more than
sediment beneath
human craving –
Earth’s healing
a welcome touch.
Reset, Please
We define our lives in acrostics
while nature audits the damage
We bemoan isolation
while Mother exhales
A sigh of hope –
all praying for reset.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter, @Vjknutson. Image my own.
In Dreams, She Awakens
I dream of a woman
Mother-centred
grey-haired essence
oozing strength –
a vessel, rain focused
decoding political lies.
Leaders are locked
targeting anxiety
selective stances
patriarchal bedmates
ending unsafe
Rioters blow up
martyr consciousness
metamorphosis in throngs
chemicals insignificant
when innocence ignored
temples violated.
What is next?
A future gatekeeper
spouting personal freedom
recalling pleas, charming
ghosts of the past?
We need
discernment,
a woman
Mother-centred
grey-hair wise
leading the way.
(I dreamt of a goddess figure, and attempted to capture her in the pencil drawing featured. Working on that dream, many things have emerged. The poem above is just on example.)
The Last Book
What will be written
in the aftermath –
so much owing,
so little justification.
Upended anxiety –
regal anticipations
shattered by cancer –
yes, life is a teacher
No matter,
if we survive –
but where to go then
Earth’s riches exploited
Commitments crumbled –
confess we have Father issues
but it’s time to emerge,
step forward, take the lead
What follows contentment
battled, passive crosses borne,
paths with no clear direction,
doubt as ante?
Hubs are shattered –
we are spokes with no centre –
pray the last book written
is reconstructive.
(Inspired by a dream, and combined with the prompt from Reena’s Exploration: The Last Book on Planet Earth. Image from personal collection.)
I Am Earth
I am Earth
Giver of life
aligned with elements
both protect and ravage
all bear scars
this is the process
I am Mother
womb and tomb
be thankful.
(Tuesdays, I borrow a poem from my Twitter account @Vjknutson. Photo from personal collection.)
Mother
Mother
to a child – barely
able to tie shoes
watching,
listening,
ever-present
through fields,
trees, at
water’s edge
provided shelter,
grounding –
whispered cautions
child grew,
left her side –
pursued dreams
until life
overwhelming –
an adult returns
“Mother?” she cries.
“Here,” Earth responds.
(It’s quadrille night at dVerse, and Kim is hosting with the prompt earth.)
Mountain
I navigate sharp twists,
confront rough trails,
steep slopes, swoon
at dizzying heights,
feel my frailty –
this path is for rugged,
mountain-born,
those accustomed
to the sheer immutable
force of rock –
and yet, my lens
tells a different tale –
speaks of shadows
shifting, witnesses
mutations of colour
describes a giant
whose facade reflects
the day’s passing light,
demonstrates compassion
in earth’s stillness.
One Woman's Quest 