Millenial sun-scorched soil, slowly breathing
scented wisdom to the soul, watering
the mind's eye with heroic struggles. I
swallow ancient religions in a sigh.
Sensing the weight of ancestry transcend
our ages, timeless moments I pretend
are infusing meaning deep into my child.
Sage and myrtle
in her veins growing wild.
Piles of hot stones sweat serene emotions.
Sweet prunes litter the ground,our pantheon
of personal gods slowly whispering
vague answers and meaning to everything.
As the sun springs from the bow of time, you
and I hold hands with all the thoughts that grew
from this tired land, that has seen too much
but can't help gently smiling in its touch.
Go on we must, the wind chimes, we must pry
open the moment, in which you're born and die.
Beauty is
perception, open your eyes,
the shine with the dirt, your smiles with your cries.
So away we walk, roots trailing behind,
to a reality of parceled time.
Ever looking to bed into this soil,
to suck the juice into our mortal coil.
***
The family self portrait project started in January 2011.
I take one portrait of the whole family, myself included, once a month.
The poem is a 2013 addition by a "ghost" writer
Every family should do this.
In late 2013 a "ghost" writer joined the initiative and now each photo is accompanied by a poem.
In late 2013 a "ghost" writer joined the initiative and now each photo is accompanied by a poem.
To see previous months click on the links below:
***
2012
August - waiting for Irene, yeah, the hurricane