I don't fancy myself a poet, but Arizona awes me so much that even I, a verse-deaf poet, attempt a few lines now and then:
Superstitions In December
Rust red warmth
The jagged outlines of beauty
Against the December chill on my arms
Towering peaks
That flood my soul with great joy
To see them every day
To see them and pray
In thanks to their Creator
Gravelled trails
They zig-zag green carpet slopes
Beckoning me to enter the joy again
Quiet communion
God. Me. His Superstitions.
Brittlebush, ocotillo, prickly pear
For a moment, civilization forgotten
Saguaros—desert ambassadors
Mirror my mood, their arms lifted high
Stationary Snoopy Dance
Cheerful, they seem to shout
What fills my mind, lifts my heart
I’m so blessed to be here!
Copyright 2009 B.K. Jackson
The jagged outlines of beauty
Against the December chill on my arms
Towering peaks
That flood my soul with great joy
To see them every day
To see them and pray
In thanks to their Creator
Gravelled trails
They zig-zag green carpet slopes
Beckoning me to enter the joy again
Quiet communion
God. Me. His Superstitions.
Brittlebush, ocotillo, prickly pear
For a moment, civilization forgotten
Saguaros—desert ambassadors
Mirror my mood, their arms lifted high
Stationary Snoopy Dance
Cheerful, they seem to shout
What fills my mind, lifts my heart
I’m so blessed to be here!
Copyright 2009 B.K. Jackson
2 comments:
Lovely.
Merry Christmas!
What a beautiful poem. It captures your heart worhsipping the awesome Creator.
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