Based off Deb Talan's song, "Rocks and Water" (which can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoRVzSup5WY). It has such a wonderful warmth to it...like the desert at night as it's still losing its heat...
I couldn't resist writing a poem about this one. Unfortunately, I am entirely unsatisfied with what I have. At some later date, I will likely write another one, because I just love this song too much to be satisfied with what I have come up with.
Comments appreciated!
"Desert Widow"
Isis bears the sienna brown of a desert -
she is a terra cotta jar,
twisted and turned by expert hands
to be evenly baked by a lidless sun.
Her hands are a scroll of flax or parchment,
old, careful, experienced,
a cluster of pictograms
with knuckles sturdy as rocks standing guard -
a pride of lions against the sky.
Her sun
is a nest of copper wire,
the smell of blood
breathed in through open mouths.
Isis grows sunflowers between her toes
and goes down to the water at sunset
when she is lonely.
She sits by the riverbanks
and waits for the spring floods
that carry her husband home.
Isis is red clay -
crisp, sunburnt,
and covered in ivy,
full to the brim of nighttime rainwater.
I couldn't resist writing a poem about this one. Unfortunately, I am entirely unsatisfied with what I have. At some later date, I will likely write another one, because I just love this song too much to be satisfied with what I have come up with.
Comments appreciated!
"Desert Widow"
Isis bears the sienna brown of a desert -
she is a terra cotta jar,
twisted and turned by expert hands
to be evenly baked by a lidless sun.
Her hands are a scroll of flax or parchment,
old, careful, experienced,
a cluster of pictograms
with knuckles sturdy as rocks standing guard -
a pride of lions against the sky.
Her sun
is a nest of copper wire,
the smell of blood
breathed in through open mouths.
Isis grows sunflowers between her toes
and goes down to the water at sunset
when she is lonely.
She sits by the riverbanks
and waits for the spring floods
that carry her husband home.
Isis is red clay -
crisp, sunburnt,
and covered in ivy,
full to the brim of nighttime rainwater.
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