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Patrice D'Ambra Burdette --Pataliyah

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On The Field Which They Reap
by Patrice D'Ambra Burdette --Pataliyah
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Patrice D'Ambra Burdette --Pataliyah
•  the way of light
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           >> View all 18

On The Field Which They Reap


"Then he said to his servant who was in charge of the reapers, "Whose maiden is this?"  And the servant who was in charge of the reapers answered, "It is the Moabite maiden, who came back with Na'omi from the country of Moab."    from the Book of Ruth 2:5

"When Boaz had eaten and drunk, and he was in a contented mood, he went to lie down at the end of the heap of grain. Then she came stealthily and uncovered his feet, and lay down."   Ruth 3:7

There is a tenderness to this air,
a turn of  light
like a note poised to sing out~
A sound so long desired,
we murmmer
at the way it pierces sorrow.

And pressing low our heads,
we dare
kiss the hand of
the same God we once cursed,
mocked bitter a moment's passing
into so many cruel eternities~
His delay
and silent watching.

Yet  all is forgiven now
in this new green of field,
a promise hemmed by  distant sway of trees
that shiver for the suddenness
of His face.

          How we halt
and bolt...

Having despaired  
of such appearings,
(so many intensions that snap
like sticks upon fallow ground).
knowing only sameness and spittle.
Thick, cloddish in our mouths,
the slow speech of solitude 
wiped clean of all heart's leapings. 

But there is a mercy
to the blue of this sky,
A cerulean embrace that usurps the grey, 
imbibes on the gall of lost sparrows,  
        the grip of bramble,
the bite of nettle skulking cold
in perifery of far flung shadow.


And here He'll spread His threshing cloak-  
so obvious a corner sacred to clear,
at dusk upon the floor-

Soft in stillness, secretly watching
the gleaner's shadow lights and falls,  
to lay her weary head at His feet...

And here He  feigns a mock surprise
at the suddeness of her appearing,
and wraps His cloak round about her,
bringing her home to peace.


All rights reserved, Pataliyah. Copying without permission for non-personal use is forbidden.

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Reviewed by richard cederberg 6/7/2006
"In perifery of far flung shadow" Periphery!

Cerulean! Beautiful word to describe a deep blue color! Excellent!

"The grip of bramble" very mysterious and open to many interpretations!

Beautifully resolved in the last line. Oh that life would accomodate in such beauty!

Reviewed by Peter Paton 6/7/2006
Has a beautiful metaphysical feel to it...
You weave your words with consummate care...:0

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