Then, my children aged two years
stepped back in time
with visions of a holy place
the Escarpment was a sanctuary
caves became home &
adventures rose up
from the forest floor
They laid on cold rocky shelves
concealed by green soft spongy moss
then summer's forest canopy
was teased by FALL FROST &
blushed red & orange & gold
black moss betrayed barren rock
My children escaped to the caves
silence echoes their cries of the past
they are unable to grasp the holy place
Today we walk in the Fall Forest
My son with his daughters
feast on cranberries
i eat pine needles
Prana air fills our beings
many shades of green moss
conceal trunks and cold rock
My granddaughters are swept
from tree to tree as they play
forest children
Quietly, my son places
each on a shoulder &
climbs to the top of the hill
they listen to the solitude
of this holy place..
copyright: Dianne Tchir October 9,2010
Love it!!!
ReplyDeletehttp://www.janetcaldwell.com/
xxx
Quite beautiful both in words and in style... You made me want to go there with your wonderful description,Dianne!
ReplyDeleteLegacy of vision shared from one generation to the next...Lovely...
ReplyDeleteI can physically feel the entrance to the caves - powerful.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful imagery here. I love the way you show the generational transition through nature..as if we are all still searching for this holy place and trying to maintain contact with it!
ReplyDeleteThis poem feels sacred. You're explicitly descriptive stylings make it so. I truly enjoyed this poem to the hilt!
ReplyDelete