26 April 2011

NaPoWriMo 26 ~ slightly ajar

slightly ajar

A mason jar of butterfly wings
sits on a shelf in her soul.
Raucous fluttering riots
what meditation quiets
so she falls to the floor
a lotus alive and
she breathes.

The jar’s twisted rim clatters,
flurrying matter’s fixation.
Showers of sugary
powdered snow globe color
settle in transmuted piles.
All distinction dissipates.

waking?/shutting down
waking?/shutting down

She screws the rim on again
maintaining miles of butterfly
wings plucked, jarred, and quieted away.
Safely at bay

until they quiver and flicker little
eyelash tickles like butterfly kisses
to remind her what she set aside
wings on a shelf in her soul.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This piece came from the first of the prompts offered up under Big Tent Poetry this week. The prompt asked that we “write about things in mason jars.”

A shout out to Writer’s Island for a posting place all month!!

17 comments:

Mama Zen said...

This is simply magnificent.

Mary said...

I was surrounded by butterflies yesterday in a butterfly garden of a loca museum. Lovely, peaceful place. I wouldn't want to pluck or jar their wings though..but maybe symbolically, as in your beautiful poem.

Mr. Walker said...

What an intriguing idea - just butterfly wings. In motion, they can be overstimulating, while at rest, most calming. I love those last two stanzas - it makes me wonder why she put them away in that jar on a shelf in her soul.

brenda w said...

Thank you Mama Zen, this is my personal favorite for April(so far....don't want to jinx the next few days).

~Mary-Having them all flutter up must be something to behold.

~Mr. Walker- Some things live deep enough that people keep them there--they keep fluttering up though, don't they?

Thanks for your comments!

vivinfrance said...

I felt sad for the butterflies, but maybe I'm wrong, as their lives are in any case so transient.

annell said...

I love this one! Wings on a shelf!

Lolamouse said...

I love the line "eyelash tickles like butterfly kisses!" Such a great image.

flaubert said...

Gorgeous piece of writing, Brenda. She keeps the wings fluttering in her soul. Beautiful symbolism.

btw, I love Woodie Guthrie and the other day I read an article about John Trudell. His story is a sad one.

Pamela

brenda w said...

Pamela, Thanks for mentioning my sidebar pics. Spring break opened up a little time for me to play here. School again tomorrow. We need more time to really miss each other, the students and myself. ha!

Yes, John Trudell's story is quite sad. His intellect is superior, and his insight into the motivation of our government is biting. I love his spoken word work. DNA is a download from itunes.

Thanks for your visit. Glad you read about JT.
~Brenda

Marianne said...

Great title! Your first two lines are spectacular! Love the way you come back to them in the last stanza: "little eyelash tickles like butterfly kisses to remind her what she set aside wings on a shelf in her soul."

Elizabeth said...

Brenda, I love, absolutely love this poem. It speaks so deeply of so many things. Butterflies are a symbol of transformation in the four stages from pupa to butterfly beautiful. Deep inner transformation might not be seen or even understood by others, but it is certainly felt in the soul. Can't tell you how much I love your words,

Elizabeth

whenwordsescape said...

Brenda~

I especially liked the lines:
Raucous fluttering riots
what meditation quiets

Thinking when I feel "butterflies" in my stomach (and...especially today...deeper in my soul: perhaps that jar is sitting there now?) it's not always for a pleasant thing. "Raucous riots" may be more apropos. But the best part of all--and the reminder I needed today, is that they can be quieted by meditation.

Lovely poem, Brenda.

~Paula

sharplittlepencil said...

I like Mr. W's comment about having just the wings in the jar. This was a beautiful offering, filled with imagery, free-form in interpretation. I love it when you are not told exactly what to think in a poem. (Not my forte, by the way, LOL) Amy
http://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/04/26/aging-disgracefully-and-proud-of-it/

lucychili said...

true
it does feel like
we collect shiny things
compressed
instead of living them

b_ said...

That first stanza knocks me out. And I love the title

LKHarris-Kolp said...

Lovely image... butterfly kisses with eyelashes... I love those!

~laurie

Tumblewords: said...

Colorful imagery!