Thursday, April 2, 2015

First Home

I dwelt
under a cage of ribs,
and was fed from
blood pushed through
veins,
oxygenated by lungs
that sang and argued and
laughed and whispered

I was woven
from the dreams carded and
thoughts spun and
stories that knit together
generations
in a tapestry of
sun and wind and plains
and paths into forests
and over oceans
leading ever
home

Mama Zen over in the Imaginary Garden asked us to write about the house they built us for day #2 of National Poetry Month, Poem a Day.
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13 comments:

  1. Susie ClevengerApril 3, 2015 at 12:02 AM

    Mary, this is beautiful. This speaks of joy and nurturing.

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  2. JimApril 3, 2015 at 12:06 AM

    Home is a place to come to, right Mary. You character came a long way from mother's womb even to being over oceans, but still there was a way to home. I like your tapestry patterns.
    ..

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  3. Rosemary Nissen-WadeApril 3, 2015 at 1:31 AM

    Yes of course, that is our first home, where we are built, and how beautifully you evoke it.

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  4. grapelingApril 3, 2015 at 2:35 AM

    I really like this, Mary ~

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  5. MarianApril 3, 2015 at 5:03 AM

    Aw, yes.

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  6. Other MaryApril 3, 2015 at 7:53 AM

    Thanks everyone. I thought maybe I was being too...trite, but I did it anyway.

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  7. Pat HattApril 3, 2015 at 8:38 AM

    Where all grow and become

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  8. Kerry O'ConnorApril 3, 2015 at 9:09 AM

    From womb to the weave of dreams - this is a whole new angle on the subject.

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  9. Maude LynnApril 3, 2015 at 9:45 AM

    Oh, wow. I wish that I had written this.

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  10. Gillena CoxApril 3, 2015 at 9:52 AM

    Blood is life as breath is also, the care in forming you is well intimated

    Very interesting poem

    Thanks for stopping over to read mine

    Much love...

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  11. hedgewitchApril 3, 2015 at 10:37 AM

    Taking us all back to the promise and the very real magic of that first home--you even manage to weave a path from it forward and back that feels as open and compelling as the birth canal itself--if that isn't too whacked out a metaphor! Enjoyed this much, Mary.

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  12. Magaly GuerreroApril 3, 2015 at 12:59 PM

    I want to visit this home... and stay there until I discover everything about it. What a place, to be remembered in such a glorious way.

    Love the second line. A lot.

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  13. scotthastiepoetApril 25, 2015 at 8:54 AM

    Lovely Mary, great to have you writing agin ands with such freshness and luminosity too.. Especially admired and enjoyed:

    "...oxygenated by lungs
    that sang and argued and
    laughed and whispered..."

    AND

    "... woven
    from the dreams carded and
    thoughts spun..."

    VERY Lovely... With Best Wishes Scott xxx

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