For this hour I want you to use the quote bellow by Robin Wall-Kimmerer from her book Braiding Sweetgrass as the jumping off point.
“The land knows you, even when you are lost.”
Prompt contributed by Ramona Elke
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
For this hour I want you to use the quote bellow by Robin Wall-Kimmerer from her book Braiding Sweetgrass as the jumping off point.
“The land knows you, even when you are lost.”
Prompt contributed by Ramona Elke
The land you know, even when you are lost can soothe a broken spirit with a familiar place to call home.
The road no longer feels long, it becomes a guide without a map to follow the twists and turns around each corner.
Knowing its peaks and valleys all too well. It makes a journey to the past feel like riding on a carousel.
The faces begin to mimic an old school teacher, a tired cashier, a man dedicated to his hustle, a mother smiling at the simple things in life.
The air so muggy and hot in the summer yet crisp and breezy in the winter.
Fall doesn’t exist because we know when the leaves begin to lift.
The seasons will shift from one extreme to the next.
Encouraging us all to take time to rest.
The water a mixture of grays and blues. A place many go to seek for solitude.
The clouds are mysterious with strokes of color displayed upon its never-ending canvas.
The scent of sweet potato pie and fried turkey or those pink azaleas flowers laying along the road all beautiful, soft, and sweet.
The energy of home when your bags can drop from your hands and lay peacefully at your feet.
-Hafeezah 6/22/19
The land knows you, even when you are lost
With each step taken
Cushions the blow.
The leaves rustle
This way and that
Where is the wind coming from?
Alas, the northwest.
The water envelops the soul
Immersion drowns the noise
It is quiet and you hear
The sound of your beating heart.
The land heals you
And guides you when you fall to the ground
The whispers of tall grass and anemones
Carry you home.
Never Lost
If blue bonnets I happen to see
or armadillos, lizards in trees
and country music moves the knees
I know in Texas I must be.
And now upon a tritangular tower
surrounded by art for the eyes to devour
and mourning our lady – blackened, dour
I’m in France’s Paris flower.
Then, I spy an old cracked bell
the place of independence, as well
I’d in Philly’s brotherly love dwell.
North a bit, and there’s a rock
it’s smaller now with time’s tick tock
the seafood’s great, and Fenway’s grand
when e’er I visit Boston’s land.
Out west, looking down afar
the rivers cut rock walls under stars
below the donkeys carefully ride
thru Colorado’s Canyon and survive.
South now, and Cajuns speak,
“who dat?” is what the sports fans tweet
beignets and frog legs are cuisine
and brightly-shining Mardi Gras beads
New Orleans is this flashy scene.
East again, and all I see
are vegetables, corn, carrots, peas
one gambler’s famous city be
I know for sure I’m home, Jersey.
Where e’er I go, the land tells me
any place I happen to be
from Florida below to Paris above
not lost, but found in the lands I love.
-Sandra Johnson, 6/22/19
Very creative. Love the way you make me want to travel and experience more.