Another poem from the NC Arts Council's Christmas Garland of 3 years ago. (www.ncarts.org)
by Kathryn Stripling Byer
Scent of ashes
from the hearth.
Tattered colors
strewn like rainbows
on the the rug.
The drip
drip of snow melt
from the eaves
and underneath
the tree an emptiness
that means
our lives are full
with gifts just opened,
gathered now into our keeping
for another year
of longing toward the peace
that passes
every day's misunderstandings.
from the hearth.
Tattered colors
strewn like rainbows
on the the rug.
The drip
drip of snow melt
from the eaves
and underneath
the tree an emptiness
that means
our lives are full
with gifts just opened,
gathered now into our keeping
for another year
of longing toward the peace
that passes
every day's misunderstandings.
8 comments:
Lovely! Here we have the enforced peace of being more or less snowed-in. Heavenly!
Captured moment, exactly.
Your photo, too.
Love & Merry Christmas, Kay!
I love the photo.
I love the poem, especially the line about the emptiness under the tree.
*Splendid* poem, Kay. i was just bragging about your way with words, last night. Happy Kwanzaa to you. - dorissima
Vicki, I love being snowed in, as long as there are some bottles of wine still left and leftovers in the fridge. Jim gave me a new camera, not as fancy as yours, but it will do more than this old one can. I'll be posting some photos as soon as I figure it out.
Charlotte, I hope you, Jim, and Will had a lovely day--and day after. We are enjoying the Tait Farm gifts! Thank you.
Glenda, how are you? Your back, especially? It's been a harried couple of months for me. So I'm enjoying being snowed in. Am awaiting a call from my mother to see if we are still alive.
dorissima, now, don't brag too much. My "way" is pretty "froze up" right now, and I ain't talking about the driveway. Happy Kwanzaa to you, too. I've a big pot of bean soup on the stove and we'll have skillet cornbread to go with it tonight.
Happy you like the poem.
Post a Comment