Moss~

I have found a thousand words

in a patch of moss

a curve of letters wiggling under my bare feet

Like ivy

they find their hold

The s is the most insistent

sibilant leaves throwing off flowers

imprinting my calves

snaking another gripping story up to my hips

And I find myself in front of an audience

their attention around a monument in the sand

Pinecones roll around

popping

in a controlled burn

the smoke my gown, pearls and ash

such a contrast to the vibrant green

of moss

I get lost in detail

as jade ink fills in my hollow bones

and my camouflage is complete;

It must be the wind through the trees

or the unusual configuration of tears from my eyes

that brings them

with baskets

with open palms

They come to the burial mound

to collect the  violets from my cheeks

to pluck the moss from my branching spine

 

Horse looks for grass under pine needles

I, reluctant

unbend from ground to sky

mount

ride

moss stories trailing us on the wind, with pollen;

He asked if I fear the woods

and I said no

my fear is in that one day

I will give my heart lead

and never leave

 

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Reviews

[Kerry O'Connor]

Oh...my...God...
Selene! This is outright one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen from your ever-fertile mind. I cannot tell you how moved I am by the words and images, the moss-green magic you have conjured.
As for the last lines... enough to bring tears to the brim:
He asked if I fear the woods
and I said no
my fear is in that one day
I will give my heart lead
and never leave

[OT]

ah so good!! the way you twist around words and stories! I love - "Pinecones roll around
popping
in a controlled burn
the smoke my gown, pearls and ash
such a contrast to the vibrant green
of moss" - brilliant!

[Ed Hart]

this is the tops...i always have the feeling that i am looking through your words, directly at you

[Lachenille Papillion]

sigh

[Matthew Smith]

It reminds me of the first time I saw a forest from the side of a mountain--the wood spread so far I couldn't see the end; oddly enough, it also reminds me of a painting of Lilith I saw once.

However, my interpretation is that this is more of a write about writing than a write about nature (other than as a metaphor)--but, then again, what is writing but a way of capturing a momentary glimpse of the glories and tragedies of life? =P

Great poem.

[Jūdan FyreHeart]

Such a delicately woven beautiful tale, so soft and enchanting on the journey through nature. Fantastic!

[Matthew Kult]

Hello Selene,

it must be one of those mornings, as I feel like i have a lot to say about this, but can't find the words. It's quite frustrating really. But let's see if I can atleast get something down here.

I like this, not as much as I like most if not all of your other works. But i am not sure why, there is just a little something not there. But again, I just can't place it. Maybe it's your usual aura they seems to flow from the words as I read them, and I am just not getting that same feeling.

But again, it is one of them mornings, so this could very much just be me.

Always,

Matthew

[Cafe Reader]

You're Queen of poetry and Queen of the Pines.

Pinecones roll around
popping
in a controlled burn
the smoke my gown, pearls and ash
such a contrast to the vibrant green


Your perception of the world, even in what appear to be simple things is a gift to all of us.

[Siddhartha]

Amazement! Amazed at how easily you spin myths and weave in and out of fantasy. Seems like a dream but feels like life, but I can't really put my finger on what moved my heart so much. It must be the the words on the moss, I think.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I think you have been blessed with a deeper vision and a wiser mind than most. Thankfully, poetry is your blood; and it pulses in every word that you write. Your mind gives birth to beauty, no matter the pangs along the way.

If moss covered your soul to cloak your form, we would see an angel.

You might pour ink and bleed onyx, but your soul is golden.

Always your fan,

Linda Marie

[LilyT]

You sure know how to touch the very beginning of a heartbeat.

I have found a thousand words
in a patch of moss
a curve of letters wiggling under my bare feet
Like ivy
they find their hold