Poem #1 - Poetry Month

… April Poetry

POEM #1- Poetry Month

 

 

As I step off the back porch,

into the freshly fallen snow,

I look in all four directions

seeking balance in a new day.

 

As I walk through the snow,

Grandmother speaks to me:

     “Aztec, see how the snow

     covers and quenches the Crocuses thirst;

     how their purple or yellow petals

     reach for the sun’s warmth.

     Even as the whiteness

     and cold surrounds them,

     they survive and grow strong.

     You, like them,

     are the creatures of Nature.

     Never forget who you are,

     or where you are going.

     My grandson, be alive in the beauty

     above and below.

 

As I think on these words,

I smile

and renew my life’s journey

that will lead me to you.

 

Aztec Warrior/redzone 4.1.18

Author's Note

thanks for reading...
this was the first of the April poems written for Poetry Month...

Reviews

[The Blind Ronin]

Everyone should have a Grandmother with such wisdom...
And a friend with such a poetical turn to language.
Beautiful mate.
Simply that.

[Robert Haigh]

Family wisdom, handed down with love! Grandmas know things! We should listen!

[redzone]

thanks for your words Robert, yes we need to listen to Grandmothers, their wisdom is hard earned...

[Einstein Noodle]

redzone! are you still with us?? .. deeply moving write says i! i feel connected to your tribe and Gramma .. like i am ensconced in her lap ... so .. beautiful, serene .. a tribute to you and yours ... thanks so much for sharing ... hope you are fairing well old friend
E.

[redzone]

hi Einstein N., yes, I'm still here with the WC poetic 'tribe'... thank you for your kind words and for still being here yourself!!!

[Melinda McQueen]

What a lovely poem. Your grandmother left you something special.... her wisdom.

[wordman]

we had a trove of guidiance back then,loved the write

[light and ashes]

Simple wisdom is sometimes the best. We overcomplicate things. We need to be more like nature..a great write. I really enjoyed it.

[h d e rushin]

My grandmother, they say, taught me how to walk. Later she sat in the rain just to wave at me when the Greyhound bus came and left. You cant get more fundamental than walking and waving....Life's a journey....great poem...dana

[Rania M]

A beautiful reading for me. Our ancestors are the voices that resound in us always. There is so much within us that can make life's journey beautiful for us.

[NotUsinganymore]

Very nice poem. Sometimes I have dreams of going back to my coutnry and all my family who died are still there alive. I really hate those dreams.