Even Though - A Poem That Never Happened

even though
our hands have never touched
fingers playing gentle games

even though
our eyes have never gazed
into crystal hues of wanting

even though
our lips have never met
creating passages for lusting

even though
our breath has never mixed
making whispers in the early dawn

even so
i know you

Blogger Inspiration 101

Sometimes I run across a post floating around in blog land that just hits me the right way and I feel compelled to write in respond. Recently this happened while I was over at Monica's Place. I began a comment and it turned into a poem. Thought I would share it here.


Monica Unwrapped

layers and layers folded upon you
thin, airy fabrics of almost unnoticeable existence
one is nothing, an inconvenience

another layer merely a moment of discomfort
laced together slowly, one by one
wrapping themselves around you

one day the weight is unbearable
one day the discomfort binds you
one day you feel cocooned

time
time passes
time passes slowly
time passes slowly and you grow

too big for the encasement
too substantial for the drapes of bondage
too complete for holding back

...

emerge in your time
some of us already see your beauty
and believe

believe in yourself, delicate butterfly
believe, feel the sun
flutter on the breeze and fly…

Brookgreen Gardens Series - Chapter 3, Women

Two beautiful statues depicting women adorned separate sections of the large sculpture meadow at Brookgreen Gardens. Both are shown below. The first is a work in memory of a young woman who volunteered at an asylum. Her untimely death prompted the artist to capture her compassion and joy.  the second piece is a modern representation of women. There is no interpretation of the work provided and I'll leave it to you to create your own from the experience of the art.

Brookgreen Gardens Series - Chapter 3, Native American bronze

The collection of statuary at Brookgreen Gardens is the single largest exhibit of American statuary in the world. Most of the larger pieces are exhibited outdoors.

This piece show the variety and beauty of the settings. Numerous fountains, pedestals, walkways and live oaks make a natural backdrop.

Brookgreen Gardens Series - Chapter 2, Love Poem

I believe part of the magic, the power of Brookgreen Gardens is the remenants of the intense and intricate love between two creative souls:Archer and Anna Hyatt Huntington.

We get a brief and beautiful glimpse into the love they has for each other in one of Archer's poems, "Dedication." Written to and about Anna Hyatt Huntington it is now repserved in marble in the wall of Oak Allee'.

Dedication

To those whose joyous smile across the haze

Of weariness would flood with light these days

And fold the valley of our journeying

Even in the silvery dawn of spring

To you my heart as might a sunlit sea

Welcomes your soul, ship of my destiny!

With you in splendor past all dreams desire

I found a world lighted by love's true fire.

-Archer M Huntington

Brookgreen Gardens Series - Chapter 1

One of the best kept secrets in South Carolina is Brookgreen Gardens. This antebellum estate setting, now the home of outdoor statuary, towering live oaks and pristine gardens has a history dating back to 1931. Archer and Anna Hyatt Huntington, founded Brookgreen Gardens, a non-profit 501(c) (3) garden museum, to preserve the native flora and fauna and display objects of art within that natural setting.
Brookgreen Gardens is a National Historic Landmark with the most significant collection of figurative sculpture, in an outdoor setting, by American artists in the world. Brookgreen has the only zoo accredited by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums on the coast of the Carolinas.

I grew up less than 20 miles from Brookgreen Gardens. In the mid 1960's, my mother would retreat to this quiet setting to reflect and heal spiritually following the untimely death of my father. Finding a special place of both natural and artistic beauty she later made this place a regular destination for her family - my sister, brother and me. The statues towered above us and the trees stretched out above us, offering us inspiration and shelter for all of the maladies of the often noisy and mundane chores of life. I grew up in the embrace of these gardens and there is no place I know that captures such a rich resource of art (poetry, sculpture, architecture, landscape), nature (200 year old oaks, giant azalea plants with palm size flowers, Spanish moss, native flora and fauna) and history (tales of the developing South, rice plantations, early trade, the beginning of ethnic diversity).

One of Anna Hyatt's pieces that resides in my mind is "Jaguar." One of a pair of sculptures in bronze, this depiction of a life size beast, poised to jump always captured my attention as a child. It still does.

Brook Green Garden Series - Prelude

This past Saturday I went to Brook Green Gardens, one of my favorite places on the planet. I have much to share with you in picture, word and reflection over the next few posts. So, visit the link to the website and enjoy the photo above - much more to come.

The Divine Truth

True story. I'm only two degrees away from witnessing this.

A young Methodist pastor, preaching one of his first sermons, took on the topic of the Apostle Peter and crafted a message intended to calm the fears of a congregation facing some significant changes ahead. He sset out to encourage them to be steadfast in their faith.

He did very well, at first, speaking about Peter's faithfulness in Proclaiming the messiahship  of Jesus, quoting Jesus, "Upon this rock, I will build my church." In his enthusiasm and youthful naiveté, he didn't fully understand the meaning of his words as his message reached it's central point and he proclaimed, "What this church needs is more firm Peters."

You can't make this stuff up folks.

Gently Walking

Gently Walking

beads of perspiration mark trails down my temples

paths of the journey of necessity, vigilance

arms stretch outward to maintain balance

delicate steps along the precipice of doubt

pain

once more muscles constrict and release the rhythm

of a task that moves me ever forward

mental anguish and withered cravings scream

threats of rebellion and unwillingness

fear

while gentle wisps of liberated mist rise from the earth

once bound to soil and stone now free, rising

swirling forms of supportive hands caress my frame

lifting forever a small piece of life's weighty matter

relief

i stroll on

Prescription for Laughter

This place makes me laugh.

Bob The Squirrel