Posted by: janetleigh | September 18, 2007

Ode to Woman*

She rode in on rare Castle Rock air,
…..head tilted towards a dream –
vision voiced bell-ring clear &
…..fate fixed –
Parched labor long, now drawn
…..into life’s rich and vibrant stream.
Refreshed and strong, purposed
…..longings revived,
…..foreseen off on horizon’s
…..edge –
She claims her frail fraught albatross –
…..triumphant,
…..tacit strength anew, knowing
she steers her own fortune.

Twinkle-eyed and amiss in
…..bliss,
she holds her gifts out of sight –
(like stars aglow for midnight).
Eye-espied,
she stoops to a broken stem,
Lifts life’s trembling rose,
…..engrossed,
…..lips to bloom,
Misses not its message lost
…..in heart-felt gloom –
Boldly keeps a keen eye
…..to any new emerging storm,
…..with adjuvant ear to ground.

Life being like that
…..she preens it –
Will ferry no linger nor look back,
She’s on a different track –
…..at life’s breach where no man stands
…..for long.
Worn reins in a pair of hands,
…..she knows,
A steady steed knows of where it goes –
It sets a steeled course,
Eye on far off fertile land
…..where a rare wind blows.

She stops,
Clears the air of heady thought –
Draws an eye over, and high above
…..Rock,
…..to a glide pattern
…..old Eagle Eye plays to –
Catching fetching golden rays,
Soon to settle in its rest –
Far from eyes that stare him down;
She, in wingless gaze task to the test
…..with hope to rote,
Traces its glorious flight to nest.

She owes no man quarter –
She lives to give, and reins
…..the gains
…..of many returns,
Her gifts – lost on those who lack life’s bright
…..and heady light –
Are hidden in plain view
…..for those who know –
Innocence is soul’s sight.

When her purposed hands
…..expand on Rock –
…..the earth nods –
Rowing white waters
…..the river sings –
…..earth curtsies –
Follows her rhythm
…..congo-line
…..down to Sublime;
No simple way to read her soul
…..than to walk through it,

this, a soft-footed, brown-haired
…..lithe-limbed warble-voiced bird;
It’s why the earth loves through her hands
…..like panned gold –
It’s how she knows the silence
…..running beneath hop-scotched snow –

she flows..

Twinklized, this one knows
…..no permanent perch,
…..she learns, she flows –
Better to scope the swoop
…..like Eagle Eye
and harmonize her nest –
…..she learns, she earns
With an eye to eventual rest.

There is a name for this –
…..hidden within a miracle
…..hidden within a name.
Do you hear it?
You shall know it.

It sounds of a clear,
…..clean heart,
Plum of nature’s best –
It’s ridden the river,
…..been put to the test –
Pools out a mind
…..for all who thirst,
Will drink too deeply for
…..all life’s hurt –
Will wear pain like a cross
…..and love like a curse,
Fought in a breach left
…..where no man stands.

She’s one of the Ancient Ones
…..she’s one of the blessed –
Makes your life a purpose
…..as she makes your life a nest –
Purpose makes for perfect life
…..and she your perfect rest.

This is a miracle –
…..this, a name anew –
This a miracle –
…..the One who Calls for You.

sun.jpg

*Formerly Ode to Maggie. Upon further reflection, I believe this tribute belongs to all women.

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Responses

  1. very lovely. a great tale, very epic. i can’t quite do it justice with a comment.

  2. Goodness, thank you for letting me know you like it, jak. I was beginning to think it was crapola because no one’s left a comment up until now – yours. This is the longest piece I’ve written and I was thinking it was *too* long to attract any interest. There’s no way to shorten this without detracting from the essence, would you agree?

  3. i think the length works. for me though thats hard to find in the moment, the right length. the best method i have is to give the piece space, come back later, reread the piece, and see if it still feels right. then repeat. if its fine after the first couple rereads, then let it be.

  4. That sounds like a good plan, Jak. I don’t know how many times I left it to its own devices. It took about 2 years to write it. Up until several months ago I think it was 5-6 stanzas or so; I thought a little more and prayed a little bit more. Finally it was “written” in my head and I just popped it out on paper. I stuck a fork in it and declared – done! *smile*

  5. I adore the natural rhythm that springs itself up in this piece.


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