Sunday, August 11, 2013

Poetry from the Soul

    This is a poem that I wrote inspired by my free write My feet want      to..., and it is also my entry for a Creative Writing Competition!


     My feet want to...

     My feet want to walk up the mildewy steps of Wudang
     hidden in its quiet existence between the giant sylvan molehills of the gods,
     a mandolin, unobserved, bows its sweet eastern tune
     eternal in all its twanginess,
     a stone square dotted with the white silk robes of ones early and late in time
     performing tai chi,
     two come down steps from higher places with the wood strung roots of tonight’s soup

      I see the warm face of a lao taitai,
     crow eyed from almost a century of smiling,
     dunking modest clothes into a flat bucket on her lap,
     releasing the chime of water disturbed
    
     A sough mist caresses the risen fingertips of the robes
     hands morph into lotus as though to absorb the chi of passing wind spirits,
     laughter of missing milk teeth echo in a room with no furniture,
     behind me the powerful snap of an intruding flash onto film is let off
     the silence disturbed into a microcosm of heightened stillness,
     but just as unsettlement rose, so too did the mute hush of the still
     sending the megapixels off and out of this place

     The eyes of a temple sage sweep over this damp world below,
     tracing the dynastical insignia of ages not too long lived
     adorning the carved arches of an ancient architect,
     in his eyes is not the understanding of buzzing chats and likes
     ornate by no grasping of the utter noisiness of life eluding the here,
     the circling of black dotted with white and white dotted with black
     yin and yang
     the ray of harmony that garnishes this being
     a gift for the ignorance of less wisdom   


  
  Hold thumbs, friends.

  Anthea