Monday, July 25, 2022

SACRED GLIMMERS

 


Between bombs falling and wildfires burning,
grain not getting to market and people hungering,
midst floods and storms and distressing shootings,
as we catapult ourselves into a fiery future,
lie the moments of our lives: the sweet slow waking,
on a West Coast summer morning, to blue sky,
the memory of standing, late last night, star-gazing,
the waves calling me forth with their forever siren song.
The tiniest wildflowers poking from rocky cliffs
are whispering: sometimes you have to just hold on.

There is an apple orchard in my heart,
incongruously, as I live beside the sea.
My childhood resides there, underneath
the blossoms, full of dreams
that did not include all I have come to see,
or how this long, surprising journey
fashioned me.

It is the sacred glimmers that have drawn me forth:
sunrises, sunsets and the glimmering sea,
forests of ancient cedar, dusk and dawn,
the way each early morning smiles "trek on!"

These sacred glimmers are still shining here
as we hobnob our hectic way along,
still flying, driving, consuming desperately,
humming our frantic, existential song,
an earthly species that does not understand
that we belong.

I am nearing the end of the journey
at the end of the road
with gratitude for every shining
glimmer life bestowed.
I would like my casket woven of seagrass
so that I can all the more quickly pass
into the welcoming, mothering,
nurturing earth, the better to have
a swift transition,
and a swift rebirth.


for Brendan at earthweal: Sacred Glimmers

12 comments:

  1. I love the idea of an apple orchard in the heart, Sherry. Love that visual. And I like the sacred glimmers. And, Sherry, I think your journey has yet a few more years. I trust you still have words to share!

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  2. "My childhood resides there, underneath the blossoms, full of dreams." I like the balance between dark and light in this poem, the "sacred glimmers" of existence that sustain the soul.

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  3. I love the reference of an apple orchard in the heart. So many seeds of hopes and dreams. Symbolic of eternal love and though it may take many years to produce fruit, when it does it will be bountiful. Much like life, it yields wisdom and in every apple there is a beautiful hidden star.

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  4. still flying, driving, consuming desperately,
    humming our frantic, existential song - you say it perfectly. Am so glad the apple orchard within you shelters you from human madness and urge to self-destruct.

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  5. This is perched the way I hoped we might find - outer ruin contrasted by inner wild, or dark mind and wild heart. Whatever the contrast, this sings!

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  6. Oh, Sherry - this wonderful, lyrical poem moved my heart. Thank you!

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  7. I like the tribute to the sea and the little flowers poking through the rocks...we are the only species that does not understand where we belong....sad but true... a beautiful poem
    PS
    nice idea of a basket weave of seagrass as a coffin....hopefully it is a many moons before you shuffle off this mortal coil. You probably don't realise this but a lot of us need you to keep us tap dancing on this mortal coil before we shuffle off ourselves:)

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  8. I fond the words "Sometimes you just have to hold on" something I can completely relate to. It stood out to me. It may just call to my own path. I am glad to see you are still writing and as always it is done beautifully.

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  9. Thank you, friends. Robb, I am thrilled to see you pop up here - I emailed you and hope your site lists your current email.

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  10. the line Robb calls to, calls to me as well, Sherry. in the big picture, we are all near the end of our journey, yes? yet your passage in and through this time has been radiant - I'm sure all your readers and friends would agree ~

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  11. Just beautiful--a poem overflowing its own brim with what has been gleaned from a long and eventful life. I can relate to the seagrass coffin--my own ash I hope will fly over these dustbowl prairielands where I have watched so much live and bloom through every hardship. My favorite line: "...There is an apple orchard in my heart,.." and we are thankful for the fruit you grow there, Sherry.

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  12. You write beautifully. I hope you live for a long time - some people live until they are in 90s or even 100s. Maybe if you keep seeking out the beauty of life you can be one of them. Suzanne - Mapping Uncertainty

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