27 Mar 2015 2 Comments
in poetry, Uncategorized Tags: earth, fire, leaves, mind, path, photography, roots, water
Lead me over stony pebbles
And deep-rooted paths
To the sounds of the universe
Evolving
Empty words
Trailing like the tail
Of a comet
Lighting my mind on fire.
For now,
It is only the smell of the earth that matters,
Rotting leaves and dark soil
In the fragment of bark
And small things that
Have been buried awhile.
March 28, 2015
26 Mar 2015 Leave a comment
in poetry Tags: breathe, clarity, light, night, photography, purple, roots, silence
sunrise
For a moment
The silence had roots
And clung to me like
A light cloak
With a bed of stars
Gleaming in its velvet folds
Black, purple, light
Settling in for
A deep night.
And I breathed,
Again,
Deeply.
13 Jul 2014 2 Comments
in love Tags: bones, burial, death, earth, letting go, life, memories, photography, planting, roots, shelter, soil, womb
My fingers reach deep,
deep into earth’s womb,
curling round hot soil
where her pungent roots seek ground
and shelter for her rich bones
asking to be buried
In latent memories,
and warm tears,
like soft rain
to carry her home.
Karen K L Espaniola July 13, 2014
06 Apr 2014 Leave a comment
in poetry Tags: breathing, earth, healing, love, NaPoWriMo, permission, photography, roots, sacrifice, sun, thankful
Day 6:
Ode To Uhaloa
You, who draw from the well of being,
Breathe in with your roots,
The elements that keep us all alive,
The soil we consume, the air we breathe,
The connective space that holds all together,
Not empty,
But full,
Extending, reaching in adulation
To the light
To be crystalized, glistening rich
with oils and fine hair like velvet,
Small but vibrant,
Insignificant yet radiant,
Offering,
Sacrifice,
Giving,
Gift,
I ask permission
To take, to taste, to hold, to absorb, to internalize, to breathe out with you on my lips,
On my skin, on my tongue and finger tips,
I Thank you.
22 Mar 2014 5 Comments
in poetry Tags: Antero Vipunen, awakening, chanting, death, earth, heart, mythology, photography, poetry, roots, tree, word, word-hoarder
I try to hear a word in passing,
And pause, looking back
To you,
“Word-Hoarder”
tapping that
Space,
Between breaths,
Silence,
before noise,
matter,
My mind
A surreal zone
Trapped in rough bark,
Plunging in
a vision without emotion,
Stunted roots without time to sprout.
How do I live without love,
How do I feed my heart
Without poetry,
A barren limb alive without living,
An Empty cavern dark without phrases,
A broken chant without sound or meaning.
I ask, I demand drumbeats
Driving sharp spikes inward,
Bleeding roots ripping spirals
Of heart breaking turf’s fresh soil,
Up-turned earth ploughing
Unmarked graves of words,
Gutted and unburied.
There is no place to turn but you,
A sleeping phantom of deep seed knowing,
An ancient tree with severed branches growing,
An awakening of a thousand sunrises glowing red
Chanting on the tip of a copper tongue,
Shaking free a universe of stars for words,
Pleading with an empty bowl,
Please,
Poetry for food that my heart might be fed.
March 22, 2014
hinarising 