Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Death Hewn Love: An Easter Reflection


Man child
Offering self
Exchanging life for love
Ransom of blood, blood moon shadows
His death


Mourn beloved
Shaken by grief-filled cries
In hollow of created earth
He lies


Third day
Newness dawning
Blossoming with love hewn
From death; forever lost it’s sting
He lives

In honor of the upcoming Easter weekend my poetic offering is just that, an offering. 
Linking up with dVerse tonight, join us for a verse and the communion of conversation. 
I look forward to exchanging a few with you, thank you for your readership and 
for the comments that I hope you leave, they are of great worth. Blessings ~Apryl 

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

She Carried it in Silence

When three years of age she was,
the girl saw a vision that haunted her.
Abandoned by her mother with a baby 
in the backseat of a red car too big for her, 
yet it moved across a sea of automobiles.
The baby, she believed, was her sister.

She never understood why they came.
She never understood from whence they came.
She only knew that they always came.
Dark shadows bringing blackness greater than night.

Her great-grandmother had them too,
spoke openly of voices and visions.
In her presence alone the girl felt belonging,
a like minded knowing that people exchange in quiet smiles.

It was said that the Grandmother had aged into madness.
Dismissing the ramblings of the old woman
by adults, gave cause for her silence.
Native superstitions, they said, from Grandma's childhood.

They came to the girl at night,
mounting blackbirds in the pitch.
Tightening the openings around windows
she tried to keep them out with
barriers crafted from clothespins and fabric.
She placed tiny crosses on windowsills made of toothpicks.

An old native American woman once told the girl
that she was special, a child of gifting
one that wasn't filtered from her by
white blood and religion.

That night the girl saw 
a great white whale worthy of Melville.
And in it’s mouth a great vessel,
and aboard the vessel was her mother.

Still, she hoped the gift was of God.
Clutched tight her rosary, and prayed.
Confusion and secrecy knit together her
thoughts and in silence she remained.

Few knew about the gift, others whispered
about the knowledge of the things that
drew from her the child-like images
more accurate than divination.

The girl became a woman, and put away childish things.
She buried her gift in her heart by faith.
She carried it in silence, with it’s visions.
She swallowed whole the key of release, in prayer.

And with it, envisioned her Great-Grandmother freed. 

Linking up again with dversepoets.com for Open Link Night. With a grateful heart I welcome you and thank you for reading my poetry. Your visit is appreciated. Comments are welcome, thank you for them, your words help to carry me to my next poem. Have a blessed evening, I hope to see you at the pub!

Saturday, March 16, 2013


The color your eyes appeared
in moonlight the night
melancholy took you from me.

The emerald texture of the moment
casting altered shadows on
the brightness you left for me.

In the green veined earthen
child that crawled from the
womb of wanting you.

From the parts of myself genetically
engineered to seek Eden, and know only the
intangible idea of that desired state.

You called forth it’s growth from my depths
life hewn from the stone carved heart
I settled into the palm of your green thumbed hand.

You whispered grace over it,
made flesh to form from it’s deadness
etching into it, like ink on skin, your initials.

With breath and green mist you
enveloped me within it’s blanket of bliss
and promises steeped in raw sensuality.

I saw only what you wanted me to see
though I always held the knowledge of what
lay beneath, a haunting haze of realization.

I could not keep you was the color
of the earth upturned as it’s brown depths
swallowed slivers of grass on the day I lost you.

It's sharp flavor stung my tongue into silence
amputating from my vocabulary
the words that would bring you home to me.

You left me to sail upon a faith-filled sea,
waves the origin of my orphaning, it’s
tides carving deep channels in my skin.

Sand softened glass it
brought me instead, and instead
I kept your green gaze behind my eyelids.

On that beach of your absence
I crafted a mosaic from
green sea glass the color of mourning.

From the poetry prompt Green at dVerse.  

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Anatomy of a Heartbreak

tourniquet 'round
cardiac branches grown
thick with intimate conjoinings

I'm linking up with dVersepoets.com's Form For All. Tonight the challenge is the Cinquain. Thank you for your visit to the blog and in advance for your comments, they are greatly appreciated. I'll see you at the pub, ~Apryl