The Poetry Marathon

Pieces of circuitry line the temple forming an electric puzzle

Visitors wander through the maze inside, each for their own reason

Each meditating as they search for meaning in their brave new world

The maze shifts and folds, blocking the path for some, opening for others

A deafening hum of electricity echoes throughout the temple

They follow the current, energy flowing through their nerves

Lost souls flicker out. Broken cogs

Each failed meditation pruned back to save energy for the remaining few

At the end, an epiphany

Awakening

For most an understanding of theirselves

Their connection to the temple, to each other, to me

Under the damp earth a single coin lay

Buried for centuries and lost to time

Gazes to sunlight without sheen

Browns and dull greens tarnish the once beautiful silver

Etchings, eaten away by ground water, are misshapen and indecipherable

Only a half-visible face with a Roman nose looks to the side,

A remnant of a once great emperor

Buried for centuries and lost to time

together they slipped away,

running easily down through the wood,

where the first primroses were beginning to bloom

in the bliss of new love

as each season passed, the forest grew with them

the primroses, waxed and waned,

the trees stood tall and steady

and every so often to their joy,

new life sprung forth to cultivate in the blooms

Watership Down, Richard Adams (1972)

Interpretation, perception, inspiration

Masterpiece on the wall

Intelligence, culture, popularity

Masterpiece on the wall

Appraisal, gavel, reappraisal

Commodity on the wall

Open air and closed eyes.

Soft breeze through hair

like a gentle lover.

Lapping waves and ocean spray cools

where sun beats down.

Smell of salt and algae;

anywhere else a sign of rot,

but here, freedom

Dark, empty, cold;

a place for seclusion.

Now a single flower, bold,

arises in anticipation

of new growth to behold

Light snowfall kissed the tip of my nose

A shiver ran down my spine

Fields of untouched snow stretched for as far as my eyes could see

Pure white

My breath hitched and I felt colder than I ever had in my life

I’d never seen so much empty beauty

I dared not move for fear of disturbing the white blanket and

I dared not speak for fear of stirring something out of the stifled silence

It was all I could do to stand and look out into the white abyss as tears fell from my eyes

Of course, each split in the road is a risk

But this is the passageway to nowhere

Left turn, right turn. Best go quick

There’s always a choice, but I promise you

Believe in yourself and every one will be correct

Do not doubt. Do not fret

Let your body go and your mind rest

I heard tale of a girl who became disillusioned with her life

Her mother says it was school

Her teachers say it was her home

Her friends say it was something else entirely

They say she found a secret garden filled with all the flowers in the world

She’d visit after school, making the garden her own

She told them the flowers were special, that instead of water they needed secrets

And secrets she gave them

Every day after school she stayed for hours, talking to those flowers

Giving them every secret she could thing of

In return they listened and listened and listened

And grew and grew and grew

Until one day she returned empty-handed, all her secrets spilled

The flowers shouted and shouted and shouted

They shouted every secret back at her in one deafening burst

Filling her head with every secret every girl had ever told them

Now her mother and her teachers say she ran away from home

But her friends – they say she became a flower that day in the secret garden

Waiting and listening for secrets

Breakfast of porridge with a side of strawberries and heavy cream, cloyingly sweet

Resting on the porch beneath the canopy

Shaded from the northern sun

Hummingbirds zoom from feeder to feeder buzzing with each new taste of nectar

Knock knock knock

The woodpecker, somewhere along the treeline, his work echoing across the prairie

As the summer heat subsides into dusk fireflies flicker near the grass

Children run around the yard with jars to catch the moving lights

The full moon rises, bathing the night in a strange misty glow

It is time to go inside and rest. The summer day has come to an end