Last Day of March
The morning cloudy
But not the kind of day
Not one cloud in the sky
Instead no clouds are visible
Rather more overcast
The sky a solid grey
Snow is predicted
Last day of March
My wish is that, it will be the last day of snow
For I have seen enough snow for one year
My spirit longs for the new green of spring
Yet, the morning carries a strange chill
Each season has its’ own rewards
Soon enough, there will be
The smell of roasting chili peppers
And the voices of the people
Singing sacred songs
The beat of the drums
Will all mix with the clear mountain air
The alchemy of place
Reminding me of where I am
Perched on the mesa
Living a life
Following a path
Under the nighttime moon
This path was set before
At the very beginning
The history of Taos is rich
But not the kind of day
Not one cloud in the sky
Instead no clouds are visible
Rather more overcast
The sky a solid grey
Snow is predicted
Last day of March
My wish is that, it will be the last day of snow
For I have seen enough snow for one year
My spirit longs for the new green of spring
Yet, the morning carries a strange chill
Each season has its’ own rewards
Soon enough, there will be
The smell of roasting chili peppers
And the voices of the people
Singing sacred songs
The beat of the drums
Will all mix with the clear mountain air
The alchemy of place
Reminding me of where I am
Perched on the mesa
Living a life
Following a path
Under the nighttime moon
This path was set before
At the very beginning
The history of Taos is rich
March 31, 2019
Wordle 396:
Wordle 396:
The Muse #49
The Blue Butterfly
Someone has painted your face
The colors blue and red
The butterfly rests upon your lips
For you cannot speak
Filled with secrets
Cannot say, what is on your mind
The butterfly is the lock
Without a key
You stare right at me
Never blink
A confrontation
As if you are casting blame
As if you are casting blame
It was not me!
Who painted your face
Nor placed the butterfly
Nor placed the butterfly
Over your mouth
To stifle your truth
March 31, 2019
15 comments:
Each stanza carries such a specificity that this poem feels like a path in itself.
And the path that you follow there on the mesa is sometimes grey, and threatening snow. Such are our paths. We choose them, but they do with us what they will when we are on them.
Love both poems . . . :)
Both poems spoke to me Annell! I love the hope and beauty of new seasons you present in the Last Day of March, and Blue Butterfly really captures the photo beautifully!
I love the beat of the drums crossing the mesa. And in the second poem I especially love the butterfly being the lock without a key, that keeps her secrets untold.wonderful!
Both speak transformation to me.. Beautiful writing
Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous write 💖💖💖
The diarist vibe of the first piece works so well with the second - I suppose, as both poems are observational, but in different ways. Some awesome lines of poetry, here.
Interesting and an enjoyable read for me.
ZQ
I really like the phrase "alchemy of place" I visited Sedona once and that phrase feels right. Love the second poem as well.
My heart supports the first 3 lines of your 3rd stanza... and wishes them true!
The tone of this is like a conversation. I love how this speaks of transformatuin.
Ah, I finally got to see how chili peppers fit in ...Taos.
The tangled image of a butterfly, usually thought to incant freedom, stifling one's truth. Definitely an image to ponder..
Intriguing, "the butterfly is the lock, without a key". Love it!
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