September 29th, A Pending As IfMarthe is a new online friend who wrote the poem above and graciously gave me permission to publish her work here on Wounded Bird. The poem is truly fine writing - so beautiful and so perfect for the season. Of course, the words resonate for me in a very personal way as you see if you read the words beneath the title of my blog.
The chill begins, the softer bright
of shorter days, the slow adjustment
of chattering wings long last flight
toward the heat of promised love
as if instinct could be memory
of steady guidance from above.
Wiser ones than I know it’s true,
“faith is living as if in great hope”,
from seasons dark springs life anew;
objective harsh reality
counsels rational despair to seek
something more, One we cannot see.
Into the light some call fading
launched a flare of words, once desperate,
of the loneliness of wading
in the run-off of others’ hope,
in the wake of lives that matter;
did they not care? Or think the rope
coiled at their feet was there for show
but not for rescue of the flailing
ones comfort shuns and cannot know
if the illusion is to be
maintained that optimism alone
can change the course of history.
As if – imagination’s gift,
and one last line of poetry,
a ribbon cast into the rift
between what is and what might be,
if only as if could be enough –
leaves flame, fall, mute to gravity.
(Marthe G. Walsh - September 2012)
The photo is not the most beautiful of autumn foliage pictures, but it is mine. Here in south Louisiana, we do not generally have much leaf color because the first frost often comes too late in the season after the leaves have begun to fall from the trees. A couple of years ago the weather and the stars aligned just right to produce the colorful tree in front of our neighbor's house.
Marthe's two collections of poetry are available at Lulu.
