i took myself by the hand
and walked the woods, both windy and cold
to peer into my original soul, messages to be told
earth hard, yet yielding to my clogs
soul pulled me to the center of the bamboo grove
no prayers rehearsed, this one would be winged in
from precious air spirits, plentifully parading
down each green and brown bamboo frond
finding home plate-sliding into throats resonance
there- the music that did percolate brought
me to my knees in gratitude to ancient song
melody repeating, words of distant centuries:
alsha mura pentalagra mantu
kesa tura basakameelo
brisona pa ta kilasaba
as sounds sauntered through breast bone
rising up throat's echo chamber
pouring out clean maple sugared notes
my soul paralleled
the gracious flexing
of bamboo growing
Kate Lamberg
2/26/12
No comments:
Post a Comment