Thursday, January 4, 2018

deVerse/ Feliz Nacidad



Feliz Navidad!


a bell peeled                 on a dark winter night              the sound came from

the little church in the village       parishioners              gathered for prayer

all was silence          they spoke in whispers                 you could hear the shuffle

of their shoes    against the packed dirt of the plaza      there was excitement in the air

it was christmas at last  soon you could hear singing     coming from the old adobe church

the sounds flew like ribbons     out the open door of the church           and into the plaza

tangled with the last colors of sunset     their faith held deeply       people celebrated

tamales and sweets       each holding a lighted candle               Feliz Navidad!

January 4, 2018
           



10 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Beautiful, Annell. You took me there. I could hear the shuffling feet.

brudberg said...

I know so well how you capture those pauses... and so many ways to include that silence, love it Annell... you are unique in your expression.

Frank J. Tassone said...

So evocative! Love the imagery, and the way you structure your pauses!

Kim M. Russell said...

Oh Annell, you're an expert at this kind of poem! I like the silent spaces between the bell peeling, the silence, the whispers and shuffles! You've captured the silent reverence and the joyful celebration of a Christmas service in this poem.

Frank Hubeny said...

I like the lighted candle at the end.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Lovely Annell.
'the sounds flew like ribbons' - beautifully described.
Anna :o]

tonispencer said...

Annell, this is one of your best. The silences in the spaces, the reverence, the joy. All of it. Wonderful.

rudraprayaga said...

Sweet and lovely lines.

Sreeja said...

I think I witnessed everything... beautifully done!!

Victoria said...

Such good narrative descriptions. I've witnessed this simple faith in San Salvador. The church is the center of their lives. Sometimes I wonder if here, in our Hispanic communities, gangs are the replacement for their need to belong to something.

Not Just A Cup

  Not Just a Cup       Southern born Not a tea drinker Always coffee For me   Although I often find  Bitter taste Of the dark brew A bit muc...