The beginning of patterns
youths early windings
ribbons of weft
threads that begin indistinctly
unfolding with each
infiltrating skip.
I may hold this anchor
but others spin and twirl
in passing pirouettes
that web their lives with mine.
I have no control of this pattern;
mine is the spasmodic touch
the gravitational pull
which momentarily holds
your orbit before you snake off
to other moons.
Star trek on the village green
before sputnik or satellite
pierces the sky.
There are other patterns at play;
in sounds
which leave no trace
by their transient recreation,
and in shadows that mime
dumb ethereal bodies
prostrate mimics that bend no grass.
When the music calls I will move on
adding my fleeting touch,
blessing or curse,
upon other ribbons.
NB. the little boy in the centre of the photo was ME !
12 comments:
Wonderful poem and photo, Keith! I don't remember ever participating in a Maypole ceremony as a child; we're not so big on that kind of tradition in Mississippi (I suspect its origins are a bit too pagan for the Bible Belt sensibilities that held sway in the 1970s). Looks like it might have been fun to ribbon dance with other children though.
I like how you took the physical act of the Maypole dance and translated it to our dance of life. We don't have control over the ultimate pattern; all we can do is hang onto our ribbon and keep dancin'. :)
Perfect Fit for May Day! Love the photo too :)
Love your thoughts in this, Keith. Love the idea of the ribbons. Beautiful as always!
Keith,
Read this through three times. Each time I felt a greater sense of loss and loneliness. Perhaps that's just from the mood I'm in today.
Touching.
Passing pirrouettes--gorgeous, Keith. You are a true word sculptor.
Interesting post. That picture sure takes us back to the good old days...or were they the not so good old days?
Peace and Blessings
The patterns in God's creation are amazing ... You are a beautiful wordsmith
Beautifully put! I remember making a Maypole in Girl Scouts, a long time ago. Brings back memories! :)
Keith, you've got a gift for this!
Wonderful visuals, Keith. Thank you for sharing this insight into the past and future.
Outstanding! I read and re-read and then read this aloud. I love poetry and the sounds of your words and the images they invoke drew me in and caused me to pause and think deeply. So thankful to have read this today! You are indeed gifted with words, Keith.
Here's the part I reread several times:
"Star trek on the village green
before sputnik or satellite
pierces the sky."
Now that's brilliant. (I love people who recall that the word "trek" used to have it's own actual meaning, long before a certain T.V. show came along. . . .)
Thanks for the post, Keith.
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