Tag: Inspiration

By The Vine

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 1 Comment

wpid-img_20150312_153445.jpg

By The Vine


The image is haunting
Fresh ghosts, no old ghosts or past demons
More of a grey entanglement
Never was there a more perfect physical picture
Eerily beautiful
Twisted with potential
You, wrestling the old, welcoming the new
I, an admirer of your work
You, artist, sculpting out of brittle death
A place
For new life

The work is daunting
Man fighting nature, on the cusp of Spring, you take charge
More of a knight in shining armor
Never was there a more perfect image of you saving us
Brashly handsome
Plucked from a fairy tale
You, saving the day, battling the old enemies, ours and theirs
I, the princess, receiving the fruits of your labor
You, the warrior, slaying the dragons of what was before
A place
For new life

We had no choice in this tale of ours
Happily ever after
Comes to those
Who cut back

The vines that choke a life
You went in
Guns ablazing
And we ended up on top


Round and Round We Went

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 1 Comment

cropped-cross-for-pikmonkey1.jpg

Round And Round We Went

It looks like lunacy
This repeating of mistakes
And words, in the ditch, in the gutter, stuck in the groove of
Well intended emphasis
Pounding it out and dancing ’round

Peace comes in the dancing in circles like a spinning top only
If you are two in a tulle skirt
In the kitchen, giddy young
Drunk on air and youth

But we know it all and this and that and
A thing or two of circling round like fighters in the ring
Someone always gets bloodied up
Black eyes, the mark of the warrior who fought hard
No need for
White flags or olive branches, doves
Nothing stops us until we are down for the count
We lick out wounds, healing hidden in the tongue
The same one which spoke the wounds

But now the circle has been broken
I released you at last
You flew off straight and strong, headlong into the unknowing, surely you knew
Freedom came in the unfurling of my weary white knuckled boney hands

Now we dance, we are new and two again
Walking in a straight line, side by side

And I stand alone now
Circling the cross
Quiet warrior, retired from the ring

It looks like lunacy
To those who never knew

A quiet warrior, retired from the ring

Go Love

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 1 Comment

wpid-img_20150114_102338.jpg

Go Love

On the day when the news burned, a flame of pain scorched the earth
Beyond any before
When shock and awe were heard round the world for all the world to see
There was love
Birthing and breathing in a small space in a world that I curate
But in fact, no it’s all grace
Raising and loving
Pregnant pauses of hope and wait
Douse the fiery news
Run across the earth like meteors crossing paths in heaven
Landing here
Locked and loaded with Love

On the day that the news seared my soul, I could not sleep
But for the remembering of him and his love
He told me in trust, a lifetime lead up to this
His words, like a shooting star
All cliche for some, but not for me, he shot his bow
As a warrior for Cupid
He told me of his Love

On the day that the burning down of hope in good shattered my soul, as never before
A new howl for the hurting echoed the canyons of the living

Love raised from the ash
Head on the pillow
Heart filled with dreams of full moons and meteor showers and shooting stars
I pray Lord have mercy in octaves higher than
Ever before
I look heaven-ward and say again
Go Love
Go forth, in Love

Muting the cries of the moaning
Love wins in the middle
Of a life
In the middle of a war

I’ve drawn back my bow
Go in Love with me

The Element of Surprise

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ Leave a comment

The Element of Surprise

wpid-img_20150114_102338.jpg

And I heard
Bold prayers exploding from my lips
I wondered
Did another
Hijack my mouth
Borrow it for a moment
So I stuttered them again
To listen to myself in disbelief
Self reflecting, I checked
And
Made sure it was my heart
Leaking out around me
Rising up to Haven
In honest, humble ways

I came upon the narcissus in my yard
And felt how un-January of you
Bold and tender, white and frail
You seem more like Easter new to me
Yet I find
Your unique voice
Is  welcome here
Sitting, singing in the winter’s cold
For I know this is the time
Marked for
Blooming forth in honest ways

I almost called the manager
Suggested there was some mistake
So much beauty could be mine
For  $2.99, bouquet of luscious greens
As though the eucalyptus
Said pardon me and asked
If I would take her fragrance home
Where
She made promises
To sit by me while writing
In sweet and pungent, honest ways

Cancer news comes through the phone
Loss and disappointment crawl scrawled across my screen
My insides cry in wrenching sympathetic pain
For them, for all mankind
The earth is spinning wild and fast
And I am, yet still surprised
By the mix of joy and pain

But I will stand on hope
And recall the roses’ thorns
Small tight blooms, hold wonder
Unpicked, not ripe or ready yet
Hold their secrets, tucked
Still growing, on
The well-armed bush

Yet
In time’s fullness
Our moments will come
Birthed
In radiant fullness
Glory’s
Extravagant beauty
Poured out on the Earth

We will sing Hallelujah’s loud

And  bow in holy gratitude

Weep wet oceans of our humble thanks
For the pregnant
Waiting
Laced with scared hope
And rejoice in honest ways for
The unveiling
And

the mysterious
element of surprise