Posted by: janetleigh | March 30, 2009

Ode to Woman (FINAL, final revision)(we hope:)

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Ode to Woman

She rode in on rare Castle Rock
air, head tilted toward a dream,
vision voiced, bell-ring clear
now fate fixed.

Parched labor long, now drawn
into life’s rich vibrant stream
refreshed and strong,
purposed longings revived
foreseen off-on horizon’s edge,
will claim her frail albatross
triumphant.

Tacit strength anew knowing
she steers her own fortune,
twinkle-eyed and amiss in bliss
(she held her gifts out of sight,
like stars aglow for midnight).

Eye-espied,
she stoops to a broken stem,
lifts life’s trembling rose
engrossed,
purses lips to bloom,
misses not its message lost
in heart-felt gloom,
boldly keep a keen eye
for far off storms approach,
keep adjuvant ear to ground,
life being like that-
will ferry no linger nor look back-
she preens it.

She is on a different track
at life’s breach
where no man stands for long,
worn reins in a pair of hands,
(a cry a sigh a heart expands)
a steady steed, he goes
to a place where no man knows,
it set a steel-eyed course
for far off fertile land
where a rare wind blow.

She stops,
clears the air of heady thought,
draws an eye over 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 test
with hope to rote,
traces its glorious flight to nest.

She owes no man quarter-
she lives to give-
reins the gain of many returns,
her gifts lost on those who lack
life’s bright and heady light
hidden in plain view
for those who know
innocence is soul sight.

Her purpose hands expand on Rock
the earth nods,
rowing white waters the river sings
earth curtsies,
follow her rhythm
conga-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 is why the earth loves through her
hands, like panned gold,
it is how she knows the silence
running beneath hop-scotched snow,

she flows.

Self-taught to twinkle,
this one knows
no permanent perch,
she learns she flows,
better to scope the swoop
like Eagle Eye
harmonize her nest,
she learns she earns,
with 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.

Sound of  a clear clean heart-
plum of nature’s best-
she’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,
love like a curse,
fought in a breach left
where no man stands.

She’s 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.

Copyright (c) 2007, JLD
Revised 01-01-08; 03-30-09.

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Responses

  1. The 2007 version of this poem was one of the first poems of yours that blew me away as I began to haunt this site. This poem is epic, such a journey. It was very good before, and it remains so. I think it is refreshing to go back and regrasp your older poems, and attack them with new eyes, with your heart and soul in a new place, and revise, and rewrite them. Do they become better or just different? Who cares. They become right now and new. Thanks for dusting this jewel off and polishing it up for us.

    Glenn

    My dear Glenn, thank you for not giving up on me, especially since I haven’t been able to do as much time on-line now (again!) since I’m taking care of Rascal; I never realized caring for a furkid with his kinds of health problems would be no different than caring for a person! Time is time, regardless of who or what calls for your attention. BTW, I just spent an hour reading Joel and Leslie’s Mission blog! What a fantastic adventure! It reads like a movie script, doesn’t it? It’s amazing everything they went through, with the illnesses, injuries, accidents, lost wedding rings, etc. What a pleasure to read about 2 wonderful people serving the Lord!

    I never realized this poem, Ode to Woman, affected you the way you described, Glenn. It was a long time in the making, and to be honest with you, I’m not sure I’m through with it, yet. heh heh But I promise you, I won’t be tampering with it for a long, long time; I’d hate to be known as the cyberwolf (as in “crying wolf” – last revision! last revision! it is done! it is done!

    Hoping all is going good for you and yours and that you have a very blessed Easter!

    p.s. I put your masterful epic poem Golgatha up on Poetmeister 4 Poets! too.

    p.p.s. {{{hugs}}}

  2. i like this,

    this long form works for you.

    And here:

    This, a soft-footed, brown-haired
    lithe-limbed warble-voiced bird;
    it is why the earth loves through her
    hands, like panned gold,
    it is how she knows the silence
    running beneath hop-scotched snow,

    That is great writing.

    Hello, blonderblondest, and welcome back to my on-again, off-again blog project. I’m sorry to reply to the kind thoughts you left me so long after making them. I hope you’ve been reading along so at least you know why..:) I appreciate your telling me exactly what you like, poetry-wise. I think I’ll be doing more long forms in the future. They’re very challenging, tho. And -{{{hug}}}- it makes my heart leap for joy to know you liked the above stanza. It’s the one that made me cry after writing it; I knew it was straight from the Lord. I could never come up with something like that on my own. Seriously. Every good thing I have is from God.

    I haven’t been by sorry apologies in a while, but I’m looking forward to what you’ve been doing lately..:)

  3. I love this ode – what more could one want of an ode?

    she’s one of the blessed,
    makes your life a purpose

    brilliant!


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