Wura-Natasha Ogunji
33rd Bienal de São Paulo
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| Kenia Santos Used with Permission |
The grass bends its back in the stillness of the rain
in its endless falling, the yellow grass
leaning away from the wind in endless yellow rows
like soldiers marching through mud, and dying
but behind the fallen, are ranks and ranks
of the living, golden in youth but dying too.
And the rain has liberty; and the mountains
open their mouths and drink; and the grass
is heavy with seed; and this is the way of things
because the dead are always with us
we march in time in our ranks to the grave
where the yellow grass grows tall in the rain.
Day 25 ~ LIBERTY
I am hosting in The Imaginary Garden today, speaking about Imagism and further inspired by the Contemporary Art of Wura-Natasha Ogunji (Photo shared by Kenia Santos)
What a wonderful poem!!! Love it, Kerry!
ReplyDeleteI really love how you worked the image into an extended metaphor of the cycle of life
ReplyDeleteI held the image in my mind a long time. When I sat down to write the poem poured out in under 5 minutes. I loved the whole experience.
DeleteA series of powerful images leading to a 'Wow!' of a culmination.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad to know there is a wow at the end.
Delete...and THAT'S how it's done!!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Ron.
Delete"And the rain has liberty; and the mountains open their mouths and drink; and the grass is heavy with seed," this is by far the most poignant imagist poem I have read, Kerry! Every word that is carefully placed echoes the thread between the living and the dead.❤️
ReplyDeleteThat is very kind of you to say, Sanaa.
DeleteI like how you wrote this poem. I often do the same. The way you knit together the series of images
ReplyDeleteWonderful... comforting... gentle
ReplyDeleteI love how you saw life cycles in this. So many humans these days don't see their connection with nature. This is beautiful
ReplyDeleteI live with nature very closely, plants practically grow in through the windows and birds fly in and out of my kitchen.
DeleteKerry- this is stunning. Your words flow perfectly to that amazing ending.
ReplyDeleteI really like the comparison of the grass bending its back in the stillness of the rain with the soldiers marching through mud, and the shift to the thirsty mountains and heavy seed. And all the time in the background is death.
ReplyDeleteLife in the foreground, death in the background and vice versa.
DeleteAs the poet said, the paths of glory lead only to the grave. But, the cycle of life will always continue, despite our violent idiocies.
ReplyDeleteIndeed.
DeleteYou brought the image of our young men dying to as they face the rain of liberty full circle for me here.. I love the closing repetition..
ReplyDeleteThank you, Violet.
DeleteI love the repetition of the yellow grass.
ReplyDelete"The grass bends its back in the stillness of the rain"
And life just keeps rolling on.
I tried to write to this prompt, Kerry, but the page mocked me, blank.
ReplyDeleteyou've fashioned a visually powerful pen ~