Old One Speak

11/19/2011

2 Comments

 
Picture
Old One -
Speak to me of dark gifts,
Of fragile boughs
That bend and break.

Speak to me of brittle bark,
Of sinews tight
That snap and sing
Of precious things.

Speak to me of fields laid bare
Tears and spoilage everywhere.
Turning soil, seed all sown.
Unaware of where is home.

Speak to me of furrows deep
Where promises and stories keep
Summer rains bring pulsing veins…
Old one - Speak to me.
2 Comments
Dianne
11/23/2011 05:06:08 am

A very beautiful poem that, to me, says a lot about old age. I don't really think it compliments the photo, though. To me the poem conjures up an image of a newly sown field or summer fallow. In front of the field I imagine a few boughs of a decidous tree, perhaps some branches are bare and dead while others are springing forth new shoots.

The photo is an interesting contrast between the very lined face of the older lady and the rich fullness of the berries.

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Nancy Lindquist link
11/23/2011 05:26:52 am

i want this gorgeous woman to speak to me about her full life. Do you see her beauty Dianne? I find her so phenomenally beautiful. I like you image too. I try not to question my imagery alot - try to trust what comes to me. But if either the poem or the photo inspire something in someone else that is wonderful - that is the power of metaphor hey? Thanks much Dianne.

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