Sunday, March 27, 2016

March 27, 2016 The Sunday Whirl Wordle #244/ Enlightenment Guaranteed --Sunday's Whirligig #52/ What was Gold Now is Brass -- Poets United

The Sunday Whirl Wordle #244
Crooked, smoke, words, moon, water, three, name, light, pebbles, phantoms, lead, god

Enlightenment Guaranteed

where is this god         of whom you speak                when we looked for him

he was not there           i came to the desert                not to find god

but to allow god           to find me                               the moon rises above the mountains

lights the landscape     the pebbles come alive            still there are phantoms

hear their songs            in the wind                               led by the smoke

from their fires             find words along the way         use them to tell my story

begun so long ago        and yet the mountains tell me               it was not so long ago

among the words          that come to me                       i find the names of things

that were given long ago     again the mountains tell me        it really was not so long

there in the light of the moon      i begin to see             what was hidden before

three times                    i dropped to my knees              enlightenment guaranteed


March 27, 2016


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Sunday's Whirligig     Whirligig #52

brass, earth, stone, sea, honey, hold, shine, ink, meditation, miracle, forbid, battering




What was Gold Now is Brass

the earth             is the great healer                        when all seems lost she is still here

and here in the desert      you can see                     what is left of the great sea

that once covered            the southwest                   it seems a miracle

that we are here              where camels once roamed                    in meditation

i feel with fingertips       the stories scratched into the rock          come alive

i can see it all                  a place of milk and honey      the earth has taken a battering

at our hands          she may no longer be able to support us          and our kind

nothing was forbidden       and we raped and pillaged                   held nothing sacred

still the sun shines             most days                             the moon at night

the earth moves beneath my feet              it is no miracle               only fracking

dip my quill into the ink     i write the end of the story        what was gold is now brass

March 27, 2016






9 comments:

  1. I love that you came to the desert not to find God but so God could find you. I feel the mountain's presence...in this poem and in your life.

    In the second poem, I love how mother earth is still here for us after we have "held nothing sacred". Forgiving, as all mothers are.

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  2. I luv the confession of the first poem, for God is alwsys with us that was his promise. And yes we need to turn our faces toward him

    Easter Blessings dear Annell

    Much love...

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  3. i begin to see
    what was hidden before
    three times
    i dropped to my knees
    enlightenment guaranteed

    Beautiful lines...!!

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  4. I love the distinction you make in the first poem between going to the desert to find god versus going there to allow god to find you. Stellar. Then, in the second one...."the earth is the great healer when all seems lost she is still here." Yes! Most definitely. Desert, mountain, sea.....wherever we may be....she heals us :-)

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  5. I adore the enlightenment where you allow god to find you...but oh that second poem is so powerful...indeed we have turned it all to brass!

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  6. Both poems are so personal but so relevant to many. The pain and anguish of life and death both for our own and for the Earth itself.

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  7. Oh that mountain always reminding us of how insignificant we truly are. Is that why we have so deliberately ravaged our home?

    Elizabeth

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  8. three times i dropped to my knees - such a vivid image and line - i guess god finds us..in the stones and mountains..skies and colours..i still think you are gold however

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  9. So much have you gathered in two poems Annell. Speechless am I when I think of God and in turn what we have done to this world he created.

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