she led

as some drive by
all they see
are pebbles and weeds
patches of stunted grass
and a few shards of glass
an empty lot
beside the tracks

do those who walk
take a closer look
nay they rush on by
not noting the absence
of what was wiped clean
not knowing the glory
which once here grew

across the tracks
a vacant sister
once peddled great cycles
fenced slabs remain
from an era moved on
yet like her dear sister
no one bats an eye

towers and parapets
sprout up nearby
yet the forgotten siblings
lay idly by
not a hint
of what once was
no clue or marquee

yet to some the pebbles speak
of the faire that flourished here
their stories linger on
parched grass whose roots
grow deeper after seven years
and ne’er forgot
the twenty before

aromas of the lost cafe
imbued within the land
the gardens bare
save thirsty grass
a stray sage remembers
many smudgings
protections and blessings

she was born just up the road
nurtured there for fourteen years
before she settled here
but it was here she blossomed
‘fore moving on
to the home down south
and here she lingers on

a flock drifts in upon the wind
the birds resound the call
of saint françois de sales
“Nothing is so strong as gentleness,
nothing so gentle as real strength”
her children have moved on
to instill this sacred song

her seeds been spread
throughout the land
to garden farm and sand
she sprouts up at every corner
she shoots up in between
reaches out her boughs as canopy
to shelter far and wide

the mother lives on
through each child
through neighbors of her way
she has endured in death
as true her spirit stays
in every stone and bit of dust
the very wind her breath

tie not her spirit to this spot
except in memoriam
at her long time herbarium
for she lives on in those who live
the way of gentle strength
but still we hear her song
emanating from this plot

her desire comes to fruition
not by force or twisted condition
fed by sweat of many’s toil
echoes of mantras from the soil
she sprouts now everywhere
from all whose souls she fed
by all whose hearts she led

Advertisements

About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s