A grain of red where my heart used to be,
the smallest of wounds barely visible,
portal to trick things out and in, free
but with unknown dangers able
to bring me to my knees. A grain of prayer
offered in sacrifice to bring healing balm
and let escape the tigers who bare
their teeth like shards to slaughter calm.
A grain of peace planted deep
within, may it flourish in dark soil,
spread its roots in the tangle that keeps
all in place while veiled in its roil
is well- churned moil swirling grains
of smokey doubt harbored in the red
wound as steady beat entrains
strict rhythym in place of easy tread.
Offered for Grapeling's Get Listed Ghost Stories over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads. Out of his October words I used: portal, trick, sacrifice, slaughter, veil, smoke and in the title: ritual, disguise. Original inspiration, however, came from Kerry's Sunday Mini-challenge: In Other Words- A grain of __.
Offered for Grapeling's Get Listed Ghost Stories over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads. Out of his October words I used: portal, trick, sacrifice, slaughter, veil, smoke and in the title: ritual, disguise. Original inspiration, however, came from Kerry's Sunday Mini-challenge: In Other Words- A grain of __.
A grain of peace, I like that.
ReplyDeleteSometimes that's all it takes...
DeleteThere are many intriguing lines and phrases in this piece, Mary. I especially like "a grain of red where my heart used to be".....
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sherry.
DeleteFor me, your third stanza especially stands out...it's visual and a great metaphor...nicely woven!
ReplyDeleteThanks, I appreciate your feedback.
DeleteI haven been brought to my knees this year lifting up a grain of prayer hoping it is enough....beautiful piece
ReplyDelete(sigh) we hope it's enough, don't we?
DeleteSo cool--very well wrought--wonderful internal rhyme throughout--and great cadences. I am a bit worried about some things right now--hope I can get through the tangle, thanks for inspiration. k
ReplyDeleteWe can take comfort in the company...
DeleteThe makers of Twitter understood one thing about the human heart -- that brevity is the soul of it, that one mustard grain suffices to raise the entire mountain. Rituals begin with narrowly-defined actions, yet portal such great inner realms. In the weird logic of the sublime, a little goes a long way. Thanks for dooring this.
ReplyDeleteYes, the mustard seed, tiny but mighty and the return to ritual to access other realms. It amazes me, also, how someone else's words can bring what's hidden to the surface.
DeleteReally some interesting and original imagery in this--the 'roil' of the rootball that is really order, and the way you have used the various 'grains'...excellent work, Mary.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Hedge, the two prompts came together for me to help me say what I wanted.
DeleteThis is wonderful Mary. I too like the use of grains in building your poem.
ReplyDeleteIt was a useful image and I loved the poem it came from.
DeleteMary, finely wrought, and in verse no less! The winding of the grain imagery is subtle and yet also 'forte', as I think the Italian goes? Thanks also for the follow, I appreciate that, and for you adding your voice ~ M
ReplyDeleteThanks for this prompt, the words you gave clicked with Kerry's prompt to help me craft this.
DeleteI'm a little late making my ghost story rounds; scaring myself early on a Saturday morning!
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, nonetheless, FB. Good season for a scare!
Delete