Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Tell me

How you make phantoms with words,
how you weave new hope sparking the heart
to open, rich as a mountain flower

Phantoms are made, not born
but they have children of their own
Grief, Regret, Deprivation
born out of moments of promise
thrown out carelessly, playfully?
only to be snatched back
in all seriousness

How ruined is the heart that has been toyed with,
how wild grows the garden
that was seeded then left untended?


Rachel Westfall
January 6, 2009

8 comments:

phantom me said...

If "phantoms" could be made with words: You would be the phantomer (my word;)

I believe we can be born with some phantom in us which can be fed or starved with our thought's and actions.

Even the wild garden will create a purpose in herself from the seed...

Ardi K said...

I love that your poetry is short and so rich. So much with few words. Perfect for those like myself, who if not seeing it all on one screen--can't make it to the end. Thanks for concision.

RachelW said...

Ardi-- I think this is one thing I also like about your poetry; it gets to the point, but draws images so precisely. Thank you!

Phantom me, I don't think we're born with our phantoms; I think they are placed there when we are small and are rejected, abandoned, beaten down, shoved aside, and otherwise made to feel small and insignificant by the so-powerful people around us-- adults, peers, the world. Maybe you can see why I defend my kids so vociferously. I want to ensure they have the right to be themselves, to express themselves, and to live among us as equal human beings on this planet.

Phantom me, what does your wild garden grow? Is it a garden filled with love and beauty, or anger and revenge?

Kyddryn said...

Oh, but dearheart - I do love a garden gone to seed, free to plant itself as it will, to grow long and leggy and free of constraint, not forced into whatever shape pleases the gardener today.

Nature nurtures what man cannot.

Shade and Sweetwater,
K (who home schools her Evil Genius because she wants him to grow according to HIS nature, not some pre-defined, government mandated one)(not the same as the point you're making, but I know you get it)

Poetikat said...

I know this was meant to be serious, but you've just reminded me how neglected my garden was this past year!

Kat

RachelW said...

Too funny, Kat; that image calls to the gardener in me, too!

Kyddryn-- a leggy garden or a leggy boy, both are wonderful things when well-nourished but not overly pruned and confined, hey?

Kyddryn said...

Yep - heh...I just had a funny thought...my Evil Genius isn't pruned, any more than my garden would be (if I had a garden)! I do like to let things be themselves...

RachelW said...

So right, Kyddryn! I don't prune my kidlets either, though I do take a stab at their hair and fingernails from time to time. ;)