The Path Of Contented Resistance





So much going on with work of various kinds, distraction is medicinal. I have wandered through some old papers, found this poem and written a sort of postscript to it. A bit rushed, a bit distracted, but happy.


1992

Solo


I cannot fall in love today

It will only live in one house
And I won't stop moving


The day before I may have

Stood at the gate, wishing
Dearly to be let in


But the air outside

Was fresh and the view
Needed exploring


Tomorrow my boots may be

All worn down
My head spinning with sights


Then I will choose my loveliest place

Lay down with the flowers
Who comes to me there can stay


And a love that is real doesn't care

At all for cement and fences
It moves easy as grass under breezes.



2013

Duo


Moon overhead

Heavy with shine
Follows a gravity


A fidelity

Pull and lustre
We see it as we feel it


We move with the lug

Experienced
Through the swell of it


Smiling under

The weight of
This light
  



Comments

Suze said…
Thank you for posting these, Lisa.
26 February 2013 at 00:38
Geo. said…
Beautiful, Lily. I sure enjoy your poetry. You're definitely an Earthling.
26 February 2013 at 01:52
Lisa Southard said…
You are most welcome Suze: I couldn't sort out the spacing issues, the verses are supposed to three lines each. But it was getting late and I decided not to stress over it. Otherwise the weight loses the light!
Likewise are you welcome, Geo. I am rather at home on this planet, although it's not always apparent :-)
26 February 2013 at 22:59
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

Image
There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
Read more

Spring Is Ticking

Image
It has been a while since I wrote a blog post - I have been writing books, and keeping a diary, the days and the work aren’t lost, just ticking quietly in a corner. [There’s a little dust in that corner but the shelf is made of strong oak planks, and the light is enchanting. A plant grows in a pot, it spouts leaves. A half candle stands in a china holder.] At Paddock Garden (properly titled Paddock Garden Orchards, I am a lazy typer) a tree corral has been constructed. It contains persimmons which may not have survived the recent cold blasts and heavy rain, along with some happy pepper trees, bladdernuts, and plum yews. We plan to underplant and interplant extensively in this concentrated area. Around the grounds also we have begun some windbreak hedges, mostly of elaeagnus and hazel. We have a line of sapling native oaks edging the spinney. The first of our camping bay areas is growing emerald grass that was seeded last autumn; the second has recently been seeded; the last three need ...
Read more

September's End

Image
September is all but done. Our fingers are purple from plucking berries, scored by thorns, sore and satisfied. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Through the cold spring, and the soggy summer, we have worked to make this place more and more beautiful. We are charming sustenance from the soil with our toiling; using the present to craft a kinder path- a tree-lined, fruit-bearing way.  And so here we are, in autumn, a time of harvest, glut, and storage. A time to plant trees, a time of festival. Our lives are seasonal, tidal, temperate, held in repetitions that are never the same; variations of repeating patterns, a common uniqueness. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Pollinator friendly saplings added to  the firepit hedge, lower field.
Read more