Verse by Caleb Mannan

If you like Robert Service, Longfellow, Tolkien, Milton, Robinson Jeffers, Whitman, Poe, The Bible, Tennyson, Ray Bradbury, life, death, Untermeyer, Pound, Donne, joy, sorrow, Siegfried Sassoon, Wilfred Owen, Robert Graves, children, beauty, Dante, Tom Waits, then set yourself down beside this fire.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

XL. Rope Woman

The goddess a braid she wove, and it fell upon her back.
Of the braid each strand she wove was made of all that is:
Of joy and sorrow, of victory and defeat, of light and dark.

There it rested upon her marble back, growing every epoch.
And from time to time, a new strand was intertwined:
Of children, of new life, of rusted love, of dark demons.

And the weight of the braid wore heavy upon her head.
And from time to time, she fingered it where it lay:
And in its weight she felt a weight she could not bear.

The goddess, a braid she wove, and it fell upon her back.
Of the braid each strand she wove was made of all that is.
Until the day the braid lay lame where she lopped it from her back.

2 comments:

  1. I can really picture this, good imagery. Sometimes, as a stay at home mom, I feel I could weave my children into that braid. But it would probably be mean to lop it off if that were the case.

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  2. hahahaha! I think my wife would say the same!

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