NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-five

Being prompted to write like James Schuyler, and in particular to his Hymn to Life, was incredibly daunting.  The only way I managed was to read it several times, listen to the poet read his poem and then to write, prompted by one of his lines, in what appeared to be his style. I didn’t even pretend to try and figure out if there was meter or rhyme.  Long wordy poems are not my strong suit, and this isn’t long by Hoa Nguyen‘s  standards (thirty-four minutes), who recommends this writing exercise.  However, I was surprised to find that copying his style worked.  It pushed me past my own resistance.  This is the glory of  NaPoWriMo, by committing and making myself at least try most of the prompts, I do push past self-imposed restrictions of style and form, which is why I do this.  This is also the joy of being in a peer group, no matter how distant or invisible, that shares their wisdom and encourages one just by their presence to push past barriers.  Thank you, one and all.


 …A cardinal   
Passes like a flying tulip, alights and nails the green day   
Down…                                                                                                                                                                    ~James Schulyer, Hymn to Life
Two cardinals, a mated pair, live in the grove behind my house, fly in for
Sips of water at our fountain and small pool, built from a hole in the ground
Lined with plastic, anchored in place with slabs of rock, formed eons ago from
Tiny grains of fine-ground dirt, settling as silt, petrified into sedimentary layers
At some undetermined tipping point of pressure.  Now dug up in all their sandy
Variations, they anchor my pool, matching to perfection the fiberglass boulders
Forming a water course to which come birds, squirrels, cats and opossums.  The
Water plashes quietly across algae stained rocks at all hours promising restoration
And renewal.  Once, visiting a rock shop along some dusty desert highway, I laughed
Aloud at a sign, advertising geodes by enticing customers to buy, on the chance
Their rock would contain ancient water thousands of years old, failing to mention all
Water on Earth has been here since water first appeared ─ an elemental entity like fire,
Earth and air, born out of chaos long before Eden, lasting, I pray, long beyond the time
All memory of humanity’s passing becomes erased, when, with any luck, the dinosaurs’
Descendants who live next door continue to survive another 317 million years, splashing
Scarlet wings against unimaginable skies, singing new variations of libretti old as time –
Aural records of creation and destruction, famine, war, pestilence, peace, abundance, health
And the always and forever balance of energy, endlessly changing, never created
Never destroyed, every system we know fractal of another ─ barb, feather, wing
Recreated in every rainbow color ─ constantly melding where they meet ─ yellow to
Orange to red as in apple, wagon, tulip, cloud, blood, ocher, toad, root, cardinal
Streaking laser-like through the leafy tangled branches of my oaken grove.




This entry was posted in Animals, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Water and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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