I'm joining Beverly A Baird & Linda Schueler in a "year long poetry practice – on the first Friday of each Month," when we, and anyone else who joins, writes a poem and pairs it up with a photo relating to it.
It has been an exceptional year for arrowleaf balsamroot blooms this year. The hills across the valley from us are a haze of yellow. All the photographers I know have been nearly swooning over their abundance and beauty. So have I.My poem today honours them and my mother. It doesn't feel finished yet, but I've run out of time.
lesson in mortality
this spring
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| Photograph by Randy Rotheisler |
this spring
rivers of gold
tumble down the hills
and pool on high plains
a ceremonial display,
challenging the sun
my mother,
challenging the sun
my mother,
who taught us to find the sacred
in the natural world,
adored our local sunflowers
after a day of roaming the hills,
we children would bring her home a bouquet
but arrowleaf balsamroot blooms
do not take kindly to being harvested,
and start to wither
as soon as they are picked
no matter what you do,
after a day of roaming the hills,
we children would bring her home a bouquet
but arrowleaf balsamroot blooms
do not take kindly to being harvested,
and start to wither
as soon as they are picked
no matter what you do,
by the next day,
they are gone
Oh, I'd love to see those arrowleaf balsamroot blooms in person! To be able to see the sacred in the natural world is a great gift your mother gave you. You've got an awesome start to that poem.
ReplyDeleteThey are spectacular! Thanks for your kind words about the start. I didn't write whole poems last April, but I tried to write at least one poetic phrase daily. Those words come from that.
DeleteLove this tribute to the flowers and your past. Such gorgeous flowers.
ReplyDeleteThanks Beverley. It's a magnificent time of year here.
DeleteWhat a sweet memory. I love how poetry can take something simple like picking wildflowers and make it hallowed and sacred.
ReplyDeleteI think that is kind of the purpose of poetry - to help us find the sacred in ordinary things.
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