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Poem

Rice fields look the same except
for this one; this one who knew me
before i was born… and lying on her
fertile belly, she tosses the mist
of evening’s bamboo for raindrops to
moisten the flesh of gentle cattle.

Through serenades from elders
gathering in a bonfire of twitters
and jousts,a carousel of birds wheels
in a rhapsody, then takes flight along
scented air whisking tiny lanterns
near the plain,while rivers blue twirl
on rustic clay. How beautiful can she be!
I must have twirled with her on a cradle
of blushing petals swirling oh so feathery!

Waking up for some reason, dusted grains
on my eyes ignite this one
spectacle tryst with my rice field
where I have become different... 
my head throbbing in sweet surrender,
perhaps, claiming the very floor
of my navel through her ripened harvest.


...................
Judged and Finalized 6/18/2016
I Got Zero, Nothing, Nada -1
Contest of Broken Wings
Resubmitted 7/1/2016

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