Sunday, May 8, 2011

A Strong Song

I used to hold
shells to my ear,
hoping to hear
ocean music.

Now, I go 
into the open 
pink spirals
twisting a trail
for the mystic
in me.

I follow
this invitation
to its middle
where new tears drip
ointment, tending
old wounds.

This place
welcomes me,
making it easy
to choose
the good part.

Wooed and won,
I’m content to stay
cradled this way,
living inside a song.

Click here to watch Kathy Hastings conch spiral series. I saw them as I wrote. 

~To my beloved rabbi, who pointed the way~


Sandra Heska King said...

This is beautiful, Kathleen. The going deep into the song.

Lynn Severance said...

Ah, "the-being-still me" and the "wooed and won" me settled into your words with deep content.

Beautiful, Kathleen. What a privilege to read this poem of yours!

nance marie said...

hi kathleen :-)
nice poem.

Maureen said...

Really lovely, Kathleen. And what wonderful images of conch shells. They're safes for the ocean's secrets.

Kathleen Overby said...

I like that, 'safes for the ocean's secrets'....almost another prompt for a poem. :) Thanks girls.

S. Etole said...

it's always a gift to find your words ...

Louise Gallagher said...

I love how you weave yourself into the song and become it.

Beautiful poem -- you've opened my morning to lyrical thoughts of seashells and seashores and 'new tears' healing old wounds. -- lovely!