• About the poetess & her poetry

Bits of Poetry

~ Linda R Davis, Raven of Peace & Poetry

Bits of Poetry

Tag Archives: Strength

A Low Barrier Between Life and Death

23 Saturday Jan 2021

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Ash, Beauty, Bird Poems, Bowl and Pitcher, Courage, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Fear of Death, Healing, Hope, Life, Moss, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Ponderosa, River, Soul, Souls, Spokane, Spokane River, Strength, Suicide, Survival, Winter, Winter poem, Yearning

I wonder how many have plunged,

broken bodies against the steep,

unforgiving basalt, to flow far away

from the tether of this rocky outcrop.

There are worse places to die

than underneath a basking ponderosa,

on a glorious day in deep winter,

high, above the earth’s mucosa.

Here is heaven, its gods, the osprey and eagle;

they preside from piney thrones, regal,

and survey with indifferent contemplation;

from their perch, suffering is also celebration.

There are less noble ways to die,

than beneath the wings of geese.

See them glide peacefully

over the rapids of the Spokane,

rage of water in the ears,

shiver of blue sky, full sun.

Yet, if hopeless traveler made the steep climb

to this one, celestial throne:

its blood, a brilliant green moss,

its body, the bare, leafless skeleton of alumroot,

entreating with outstretched arms:

See, the promise of spring.

If they were to navigate loose rock,

on the treacherous path that leads here,

would it be enough to make them cling

to the rock wall in front of me,

this low, precarious barrier between?

That Day the World Promised to Heal Me

29 Monday Jun 2020

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Alone, CoronaVirus, Covid19, Death, Division, Grace, Gratitude, Healing, Hope, Huckleberries, Life, Loneliness, Love, Mercy, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Sacred, Souls, Strength, Survival, Wilderness

And then the world said,

I will heal you

In ferns, unfurling again,

berries, growing ripe

On the bows of yesterday,

the ones your hands touched,

As you harvested the wild fruit.

This is my great forest of chatter,

it says, in a smattering of late flowers,

a fragrant, maskless breeze,

and trees you can touch with bare hands.

Speak to the sky, it cajoles,

And the sky will answer you back,

With its bold booms, and its wet clouds,

none of this needs viewed

from behind the doom of plexiglass.

The young clerk, who looked down,

and down, and down, faceless,

behind the many layers of protection.

He was humankind, afraid to look up,

afraid to touch, or speak,

or even see one another.

But the world said,

I remain the same, fully open to you.

See me, and I will heal you.

What Darkness Have You Known?

21 Tuesday Jan 2020

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Aging, Courage, Death, Dying, Hope, Life, Loneliness, Loss, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Snow, Soul, Soul Poetry, Souls, Strength, Survival, Winter, Winter poem

Imagine

if someone covered you

in ice;

how would you feel

in a chill

blanket of snow?

What darkness have

you

known, the kind

that can kill you,

your voice

silenced

in wind-drifts,

the hissing whisper

of winter’s kiss?

New Soul

12 Friday Apr 2019

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

Birth, Brook, Children, Courage, Fear of Death, First Born, Freedom, Gratitude, Happiness, Hope, Life, Love, Mothers, New Soul, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Son, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Spirits, Strength, Yearning

Some, come into the world as old souls,
like they’ve been here a hundred times,
a bit weary, wise, or jaded, made cautious
by pain & an understanding of human hearts.
But not my son, whose eyes saw the earth
as if he, and it, were just created.

Yes, from first breath he was a wanderer,
like his father in his lust for the world,
possibilities stretched out before him,
no person stranger, no place strange,
a modern day viking making his way
across an infinite, angry sea, with no map.

Unless, music is a map. Song after song,
his heart in waves of hard-plucked strings.
He sang loud, and I wondered how
he could pour himself out in front of crowds.
I see him, even now, upon the ocean,
his wooden ship, the waves, the sails.

Woman, Uncaged

13 Sunday Jan 2019

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Authenticity, Brew, Goddess, Life, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Real, Strength, Truth, Witch, Woman

A good witch, I think, as her voice rises

in story: their affair, his testosterone levels,

her childhood, and its want of love,

the gratitude for her lover’s love.

She seems about six foot two,

jaw etched of marble,

arms of steel, hands of iron,

and she fills the air around us

with tremor, something ominous,

yet vulnerable, as if she is saying,

I’ll tell you my secrets, like this gift of oil.

I take it, of course, I take it,

unscrew the top of the repurposed

wine bottle, smell deeply the lavender

and the garlic, her special brew.

I will tell you how I made it, she says,

because she holds no detail back.

She is the woman you’ve heard about,

or seen in movies, the one

who doesn’t give two shits,

the one who walks into a room

and steals it, and fills it

with laughter, and warning.

The woman whose tremor speaks

and says two things: come closer,

and I will tell you of love, of loss,

of picking oneself back up,

while at the same time you hear,

if you betray me, I will kill you.

And it all seems perfectly normal,

like the moment you always knew,

now unfolding. How what’s inside of you

was already unloosed in this goddess

of olive oil brewery, truth-teller,

all eyes on her, a wild, dangerous

animal uncaged, everyone nervous,

and eager to see what she will do.

Raven Racing a BNSF Train Through Eastern Washington

08 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Courage, Eastern Washington, Fishtrap Lake, I-90, Moses Lake, Nobility, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Raven, Ravens, Seattle, Spokane, Strength, Washington

Imagine this: an arid countryside

In early spring, wild grasses

Still brown and dormant

From the autumn before,

Cumulus clouds, dark, heavy,

Make it seem like night,

Though your watch says otherwise.

There’s a lake reflecting the clouds,

Known for its rainbow trout,

Which attracts fishermen and birds,

And a BNSF train breaking westward

Toward Moses Lake and Seattle.

Imagine a raven soaring

Over the train, and with it:

The train, with its many orange cars,

The raven, ripping, racing, winning,

And reducing everything to backdrops

and props, objects bowed

By a single, scrappy black bird.

What We Don’t Own

23 Friday Mar 2018

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Freedom, Love, Mt Spokane, Nobility, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Strength

What a strange thing to own,

A view of Mt Spokane,

Windows, frame this home,

And look out toward its peak,

Covered in snow, and tinged

Orange by the sun rising in the East.

No wind, the sky is blue and brilliant,

With a few stray, stratus clouds

And a meandering sparrow.

It’s the kind of day that smiles,

Like I remember you smile,

And your eyes, always trying

To be kind, and painfully respectful,

Even when you should not be.

Recent Posts

  • Blood In the Air
  • A Low Barrier Between Life and Death
  • Let Life Rhyme Again
  • Promise of a New Start
  • Hope We’ll Live Through It

Recent Comments

Linda R Davis Poetry on A Low Barrier Between Life and…
Lucy on A Low Barrier Between Life and…
Linda R Davis Poetry on Smoke Taint: 2020 Vintage
Linda R Davis Poetry on Smoke Taint: 2020 Vintage
Linda R Davis Poetry on Smoke Taint: 2020 Vintage

Tags

Death Forgiveness Hope Horses Life Loneliness Loss Love Poem Poems Poetry Soul Souls Spirit Survival Yearning

Archives

  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • October 2020
  • August 2020
  • June 2020
  • April 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • November 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013

Categories

  • Mozart
  • Piano
  • Piano Mistakes
  • Piano Practice
  • Poetry
  • Uncategorized

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Blog at WordPress.com.

Cancel

 
Loading Comments...
Comment
    ×