Landscapes
are exactly what gives the fine uniqueness of a place.
I’ll be fine if they don’t,
she wrote a few notes,
while she sat there waiting for a poem to come.
“Everyone is born creative,” – oh no she could not grasp,- her heart was closed;
a visitation a message maybe, “learn the rules like a pro,” ag no
that would be Picasso.
Fine; then a warm hug ? “Why would she be thinking in this very moment about a Turkish Proverb” ( the forest was shrinking but the trees kept voting for the Axe)?
Her eyes managed a twinkle as the sage flashed by; lawyer, pimpernel, prisoner and president,
“Our world is divided into wise people and fools.”
Consider this Arid, “undeserving and unworthy alpine,” she listens,
staring ahead, a vacant look veiling her face;
exfoliated, masked and peeled, once
brownish-black painted vistas
with
orange-red markings
rough and remote
passionless years unraveled
time moved on quickly
roaming through lifeless & colourless, nondescript places
she remained sexless
she toiled
difficult inner landscapes

Consider this Arid, “undeserving and unworthy alpine,” her thoughts,
“treated and fixed with gold”
broken and
flawed, in Japanese craft
becomes the artist’s
poetry.
Mend it, create &
restore the soul’s beauty.
All the while reading your refreshing piece, I was reminded of how much mountains mean to me in defining a sense of direction, purpose, of the attainable and of striving to become…greater.
Thank.you!
Oh Suzette, dear Poet, such lovely and enriching thoughts, warms the heart.
You are most welcome.
Thank you for reading.
My pleasure. And Thank-you for your inspired share.
Oh I’m just so happy that you were inspired.