From now on, April 31st will be known as Kerfe’s Day. This absolutely last prompt from the April challenge is Kerfe Roig’s collage Full of children. Thank you, Paul for extending April, and Kerfe for providing the excuse. Please visit Paul’s site to read all of the poems.
Song for the children
They spring from the heart, those bright smiling faces, from blood and bone and the watered earth, and they grow in the grass and the rain and the sunlight, hummingbird-winged, colour of dawn.
They spring from the core of the earth, stone-spun cradle, nurtured by moonlight and light of the sun. Let them reach for the stars in the silence of night time, for tree branch and moon at the top of the hill,
let them grow like the birds fly, pups curled in the deep earth, let their talents unfurl, petals cupping the light, but poverty pays, and there’s money in wars, so we weep phoney tears, let their bright sunlight die.
Last day of the challenge (though there’s a bonus day 31 tomorrow) and it has been such a productive one! Many thanks to Paul Brookes for putting it all together, and to the artists, Jane Cornwell, John Law and Kerfe Roig for their inspirational work. For this final (almost) poem I have used all three artworks.
Earth creeps with tiny things
we tread tiny things unthinking, our eyes on some unattainable glitter, or some attainable trash.
Rarely the stars.
Aloof, they won’t be unstuck, fall into our grasp, and what cannot be had, counted, traded, is worthless.
I look at the tiny trembling things that can’t be grasped and see a scrap of the universal matter,
a fragment of a star, light still falling, millions of years after its darkening.
Another apposite prompt. The painting is Shopping with Nan by John Law. All the prompt images and contributions are on Paul Brookes’ site here.
When I am Nan, I will be great and grand, Not the pinnied, cupboards-full-of-sweeties kind, And when we cross the road they’ll take my hand. When I am Nan, I will be great and grand, And if I teach one thing, they’ll understand All life, from fish to child, is intertwined. I will be Nan, the wise, the great and grand, Not rosy, pinnied, but, I hope, the kind.
The image for tomorrow should really have been for today, but it’s pretty close. This poem for Paul’s challenge used all three artworks that you can see here.
Looking behind the image
There are worlds behind what we see, two magpies in a tree is sappy scent of new leaves, the ordered chaos of sticking twigs, moss and lichen-covered, into basket shape, clack of bills, iridescence of feathers, heat, companionship, eggs to cherish in beating strong-winged determination.
Grass, the night, damp and dark, and toad waiting for a ride, pond, silver-black beneath the moon, colder than primal times, imperatives the same.
Look, the stars are shedding flakes bright as snow where nightingales sing, catch them in open beaks and tongue them into song,
where mist makes giants of brocards, grazing among moon flowers pooled in the long grasses.
Look, eyes that never leave your face, in their depths a world that never changes, of simple devotion.