deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Woman Who is With Me
I should draw breath
of fire into lungs,
a chanting ritual built
upon drum beat and smoke.
Her soft tanned, leather dress
flows with many hands of making,
her hair a flutter of feathers.
Upon my cold, shivering body
laid deep into the earth
she covers me with a blanket
old as death itself.
Knelt at my crown she whispers
as tiny bells in the trees—
This is your season of listening.
of fire into lungs,
a chanting ritual built
upon drum beat and smoke.
Her soft tanned, leather dress
flows with many hands of making,
her hair a flutter of feathers.
Upon my cold, shivering body
laid deep into the earth
she covers me with a blanket
old as death itself.
Knelt at my crown she whispers
as tiny bells in the trees—
This is your season of listening.
Published 16th May 2024
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likes 9
reading list entries 3
comments 5
reads 277
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
- Edited 16th May 2024 9:26am
16th May 2024 5:29am
I think when faced with our most challenging times, when we face the things we once thought unimaginable, we find that real peace comes with listening for the lesson. At least, it’s been that way for me.
Holding you in thought, Eerie
Holding you in thought, Eerie
16th May 2024 11:41am
The second line is startling with its use of “fire”.
The second stanza is delightful, and, in the spirit of honest critique, the word “soft” could be omitted, because flutter of feathers, with the soft “f”s gives the sound and impression of softness, quite aside from the implied softness of feathers.
Tiny bells in the trees is good too, a welcome inventive departure from “rustling leaves” or sighing wind.
The final line brings this reflective poem to a good close
The second stanza is delightful, and, in the spirit of honest critique, the word “soft” could be omitted, because flutter of feathers, with the soft “f”s gives the sound and impression of softness, quite aside from the implied softness of feathers.
Tiny bells in the trees is good too, a welcome inventive departure from “rustling leaves” or sighing wind.
The final line brings this reflective poem to a good close
16th May 2024 5:14pm
Hoi hoi
There’s a theory, that points out that the first four sentences define if a reader reads on. Is ‘pulled into the story’.
You certainly pulled me into it.
Thank you.
And may I hope for moe?
Kind regards, Gus
There’s a theory, that points out that the first four sentences define if a reader reads on. Is ‘pulled into the story’.
You certainly pulled me into it.
Thank you.
And may I hope for moe?
Kind regards, Gus
22nd Jul 2024 7:17pm
27th Jul 2024 00:47am
