Post 191

18, June 2018

Oh, Monday Me…Stones

 

Oh, Monday Me!

Today–It’s all about the STONE

 

The Berchtesgadener Street Stone.

 

 The poem I wrote about this stone is in my book

Concerti: Psalms for the Pilgrimage, (p. 16)

 

Here’s the STORY behind the POEM:

 

One summer day I walked  along a pathway that led from my summer home in Grödig, Austria to the next village, St. Leonard.  In Austria,  you can walk from one village to the next on pathways. I often walked for hours, visiting  villages and stopping for some refreshments in the local restaurants. I always carried my sketchbook/journal and stopped to take a rest on the benches along the way to write about my discoveries or thoughts.  I stopped to pick up a stone that caught my attention.  I write about this stone in my hand. Later, when I was back at my home base, I sat with the stone in my hand and created a pencil drawing of it.  Eventually, this experience became a poem.

My poem, The Berchtesgadener Street Stone is published this week in

NatureWriting Literary Magazine — Ron Harton, editor.

You can read the poem by clicking on the link to NatureWriting.

_______________________

 

“The Berchtesgadener Street Stone”

Cool rain falls, a transparent veil

beyond this Alpine village, mist covers the mountain

Holding a pink stone in my left hand

I watch from behind a glass door.

 

 

Beyond this Alpine Village, mist covers the mountain

as I remember walking to St. Leonhardt

yesterday morning

and watch from behind a glass door

I have become the mother of the earth.

 

 

As I remember walking to St. Leonhardt

yesterday morning

wide fields of Queen Anne’s lace, full bloom

I have become the mother of the earth

A small pink stone was nestled in the sand near my feet.

 

 

Wide fields of Queen Anne’s lace, full bloom

at the base of the mountain on Berchtesgadener Street

A small pink stone, nestled in the sand near my feet

half buried in sand and soft damp earth.

 

 

 

At the base of the mountain on Berchtesgadener Street

I bent down to pick up the stone from the field

half buried in sand and soft damp earth

Held it and walked till the winds wiped it dry.

 

 

 

I bent down to pick up the stone from the earth

We walked home together, the stone and I

Held it and walked till the winds wiped it dry

A triangle shaped form with rounded corners.

 

 

We walked home together, the stone and I

soft pink color, mingled with gray

a triangle shaped puff with rounded corners

Deeper pink veins lie just below the skin.

 

 

Soft pink color, mingled with gray

beneath a translucent surface

rose colored veins lie just below the skin

cuts and scars from a life that’s been harsh.

 

Beneath a transparent surface

a scarred pink stone speaks of a long life

cuts and scars from a life that’s been harsh

a cool stone warms in the palm of my hand.

 

A scarred pink stone speaks of a long life

as rain pours from the dense fog in the sky

a cool stone warms in the palm of my hand

as I watch the mountain mingle with mist.

 

 

As rain pours from the dense fog in the sky

the stone brings life to my body

as I watch the mountains mingle with mist

It’s rained every day since I arrived here.

 

 

The stone brings life to my body

A jagged mountain edge emerges in the

distance

It’s rained every day since I arrived here

mist, clouds, and sky conspire to make

mountains vanish.

 

 

A jagged mountain edge emerges in the distance

the ultimate magic show takes place

Mist, clouds, and sky conspire to make mountains vanish

I shift in my seat and listen to cars moving outside.

 

 

The ultimate magic show takes place

the stone turns over in my hand

I shift in my seat and listen to cars moving

outside

one warm thing on a cold rainy morning.

 

 

The stone turns over in my hand

it throbs and moves, warmer than my body

the one warm thing on a cold rainy morning

The Berchtesgadener Street Stone clutched  in my hand.

____________________

 

 

Austria_WebSHOW ______________________