Sunday, January 15, 2012

No path



No path; the barren places
point upward to a jagged sky
of tarnished blue. I look
for a cloth to polish the clouds,
unkempt and unruly,
but find only pebbled dust
to wash their edges. Seeds
scatter among the stones,
unborn.

Photograph: Red Rock Canyon by Shari Weinsheimer via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

6 comments:

Megan Willome said...

This really speaks to where I am right now.

Jerry said...

yeah,what she said.

Louise Gallagher said...

Love this " I look
for a cloth to polish the clouds"

LOL -- that cloth today here in snowy Alberta would be very, very busy! :)

Maureen said...

I love the image of polishing the clouds, and how your poem speaks to all the work we must do, each of us on our own path, to create and maintain our better selves; and that wonderfully hopeful sign of seeds, waiting to be brought to fruition.

One of your best poems, Glynn.

nance marie said...

breed love or contempt
awaiting their fate
conditions of the heart
in a dry land

caryjo said...

I'm such a rock-oriented person. Know your poem was intended differently, but the beauty of the colors and the textures, both rock and sky, just catch my attention and hold it tightly.