Winter weather snowstorms,
Snow and sleet compete.
Branches become art forms
When two seasons meet.
Moonlit mountains felting
Forms a welcome stream.
Charming snowman melting,
With him flees a dream.
Landscapes pristine, anew
Birdsongs fill the skies.
Winter's waving adieu,
Blessings for our eyes.
Springtime enters graceful,
Tulips first appear.
Attune, blooming, grateful,
At last spring is here!
02/21/18
Contest: 88 syllables Host: Joseph May ~First Place~
I saw Mary in Peru
as pastel chalks skimmed over
a gray concrete sidewalk, felting the surface,
baby blues and pinks vibrated with naiveté.
The artist knelt
each stroke given in homage
to the Mother of all.
I see Mary.
The Quechua see
Pachamama, earth-time mother,
the oval shape of her beatific head
tilts as if she’s watching—
when as the dragoness she rises,
she shakes
the ground.
A son of Lima dressed the dreary gray day
with earth stone. Chalk forms Her breasts.
He prays. We are all children
at the feet of the Mother;
the celestial sun and moon were
birthed
from her loins.
I saw Mary as he drew with diligence.
I saw my mother and myself,
let all who birth be
praised.
First Published in About Place Journal Vol III Issue II