Walking the old paths

The Secret Keeper’s word prompt this week was to incorporate these five words into a poem.

WALK | OLD | PROMISE | VIEW | BEAT

I wrote the poem then looked for an illustration. This one is perfect. I don’t in the least mind borrowing the persona of a bent and bowed Ukrainian lady.

Photo©Juanedc

1280px-Anushka_limpiandonos_el_camino_(8150154693)

Walking the old paths that climb full of promise,

Treading the road for a view of tomorrow,

But the bend keeps on turning, never arriving,

And the bend behind curves the past out of sight.

 

Today’s at my feet with buttercups swaying,

Pouring enough gold to fill empty hands,

Heart’s pulse beats time to the song of the blackbird,

Golden and silver threads weave tales of light.

 

Hands filled with gold, face turned to the morning,

Though clouds bar the sky, mist covers the sun,

Hope is in wing beats of gulls on the skyline,

Carrying dreams from the depths of the night.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

12 thoughts on “Walking the old paths”

  1. Truth. Beautiful words.

    the bend keeps on turning, never arriving,
    And the bend behind curves the past out of sight.

    I love the gold in the poem, and the image of the Ukrainian woman.

  2. Such sunny, hopeful imagery. I love the “buttercups swaying,” “enough gold” to get me through this afternoon. Also the past being out of view, and the mystery and call of the future.

      1. And I thought maybe she had a really heavy bag of groceries. Let’s go with the buttercups.

  3. Reading your poem over and over is like watching a painting being created. It needs the multiple readings. They draw out the dimension. It fills up with visions. Your phrase, which held me in a dreamlike trance, was so perfect.
    ‘the bend keeps on turning, never arriving,
    And the bend behind curves the past out of sight.’

    Inspiring and beautifully written poem. – jk

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