Of a Sunday

Tags

alignment, appreciation, Elaine Stirling, free verse, harmony, letting be, meditation, poetry, point of attraction, relaxation of thought, The Corporate Storyteller

Of a Sunday
I shall let the sinew
of these words resound
a violin, accord with
peace. Is harmony so
hard to hear, or have I
deafened for the sake
of fear of being less
than right?

On other days
I might attune to
greater deeds than
these of penning words
or not—a phrase of praise
for you, my friend, I doubt
will go amiss for every
thing at sea must come
to land in time and if my
thoughts should falter
I will side with nothing
much until the laughter
rises in these eyes
again, and who you
are to me brings
passages of
greater clarity.

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013
Image of violinist by Theresa Rankin
http://www.theresarankinfineart.blogspot.ca

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Our Full-Grown Heart

Tags

appreciation, completed tasks, downstream thoughts, Elaine Stirling, moving on, poetry, reconciliation, remembering, restoration, singularity, the nature of the present

The river is running
damage done, the battles
won and lost, upstream
a history only twice
remembered can repeat
itself, or not, without
our vigilance.

The stones are holding
place, coincidence restores
her right to rule at left of
metaphor, they balance flow
and currency, the two—not
one can spell catastrophe;
the literal are tiles of mosaic
wall, installed for shade
and beauty, nothing more.

Now and then, a gull may
fly across my boundaries—
her wingspan I will recognize
as you, but count no coup
on victories past, I will not
honour them, and nor
should you, when rivers
run afresh and stones
forget they once
were thrown.

No less than these
comprise the infinite
design, the pleasuring.
What once was two is
now our full-grown
heart, made one.

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013
Image of Grand River, Fergus, Ontario

Our Tapestry

Tags

appreciation, completion of task, continuation, Elaine Stirling, narrative poetry, prose poetry, the Graces, transcendence, vibrational reality

I

Some things hold true.
We threw true across the room to see if we could break it.

Some things ring false.
We held ears to bells of falsehood to hear what made them ring.

Time stood still
long enough for us to believe that something better awaits.

Space gave way
to thoughts so deep the whales swam in to see what we were up to.

II

Fear crept in
and found that it was welcome;

Doubt looked up
and learned that it could laugh.

III

Gods and muses gathered at the shore.
Who will crack first? they asked one another.
Apart from hairline fissures, no one ever did.

Who are they? asked the prophets.

Nomads, said the dolphins, recently arrived
from a place called Poetry.

What do they want?

Change.

Mercury laughed. That’s all?

Gods and muses rummaged in their pockets, tossing out change until the beach glittered.

Will that be enough?

Dolphins scanned the beach and saw there was no end of change.
A school, as one, they nodded.
Sufficient.

Three women descended from the hills.

The first woman, Clotho, rolled out a tapestry woven by poetic hearts and words and thoughts and feelings. Gods, muses, and prophets moved in for a closer look.

Audacious, murmured some. Others held their breath. The wisest of the prophets breathed deeply.

Lachesis, the second, measured the cloth for wholeness.

On a signal from her sisters, the third and final goddess knelt beside the tapestry with silver shears.

Atropos cut the thread.

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013