My unseen energy
is like that of the tree:
we have no reason to be here
except to transform
the sun and the soil
into leaves of breath and shelter.
I am but grass,
the skin that bruises
soft beneath your tread;
my bleeding sap the dew
to cleanse your tired and dusty feet
as you pass by.
My loving tears are tender blades
that dress your vine for fruitfulness;
New essence is released
through my soft bed of refreshment -
And you walk on restored.
Through you the world
continues to grow:
Your leaves keep us
living and protected.
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Reviews of "In Your Shade"
Reviewed by Katy Walsvik (Reader)
Reviewed on May 11, 2005
If mataphors were food, this would be a feast for all the days. Wait a sec... this IS a feast and my brain is entirely satisfied. Sometimes, without even realizing it, a poem will linger, kinda like a dream that seems so real, you carry it through the day. But those fade eventually... this is a whole different realm. To find a piece that can't be compared to any other, the one that quietly glues itself to the mind because it's so unlike even the most creative of a bunch, SIGH... well, that's one you keep, and so I will.
Me sweet Kate, if you ever raffle off tickets to spend a day inside your head, I'd wait in line. I'd hate to think I'd cheat to win but I might, god help me! (smile) It's just GOT to be a place worth celebrating! You did it again and I thank you.... klassy but krooked katy xox (mind you, nothing else could make me even slightly dishonest, god help THEM!... GriiiiiiN).
superb metaphor! this poems restores the faith that every leaf's energy reveals the essence of life's totality and is present to replenish the fields of truth and perspective ... it is transformed by its willingness to endure the growing world ...
A cool read indeed, and so finely paradoxical in its portrayal of the powerful significance of life's smaller wonders. Authentic humility requires authentic power and these lines hum softly with an abundance of both.
Aberjhani
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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Me sweet Kate, if you ever raffle off tickets to spend a day inside your head, I'd wait in line. I'd hate to think I'd cheat to win but I might, god help me! (smile) It's just GOT to be a place worth celebrating! You did it again and I thank you.... klassy but krooked katy xox (mind you, nothing else could make me even slightly dishonest, god help THEM!... GriiiiiiN).
Paul;-]
par excellence, Kate ...
~~Nordette
Aberjhani
Felix
A beautiful write--outstanding imagery and emotion--thank you for this one
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :)