It snagged me late–
rescued me, truth be told–
at a time when old
passions and occupations
oozed mercilessly
from my soul.
It didn’t happen all at once
but in stages, like a well-planned
seduction: the sensuous play of words,
the grinding rhythms of song,
the fusing drone of prayer–each
enticed at the appointed time.
And when, at last, I stood
naked before its spell,
it planted itself deep
within the creative space and
charged me with the poet’s task–
to turn water into wine
and toast the delicate
marriage of mystery
and truth.
© 2000 Dennis Ference
love this Dennis
Happy for the positive response. Thanks you. Peace! ~Dennis
That was gorgeous! Love the wedding at Cana reference! 🙂
Anna
One of the joys of writing is when a metaphor clicks. Thanks. Peace! ~Dennis
Bitten by the bug, Dennis, smitten even.
Peace and Love
john
Yea, there’s no fighting it, is there! Blessings and peace to the similarly afflicted. ~Dennis
This one is a Margaux ’66 Dennis.
Had to look that up, but thanks a lot! Peace! ~Dennis
This is so beautiful. I have never heard the poet’s task described better…”to turn water into wine and toast the delicate marriage of mystery and truth “…I now have poet’s envy.
Thanks you. Always good to get a compliment from a fellow “toaster.” Peace! ~Dennis
Well done. I like “the poet’s task…..toast the delicate marriage of mystery and truth.”
Gracias! Peace! ~Dennis
And for that, I am so grateful! Much love for a beautiful holiday season ❤
And the same to you, Lorrie, and an abundance of wholeness and peace! ~Dennis
Yes, that describes it aptly! Love this.
Thanks for the response. Peace! ~Dennis
🙂
😊 back at you! Peace! ~Dennis
I loved the ‘task – to turn water into wine’ – wonderful poem, Dennis.
Thank you, Laine. I remember feeling major contentment when that image popped into my consciousness. Peace! ~Dennis
A belated return to you blog- been on a writing retreat – and thank you for your many visits. I love poems on poetry and have a small collection – haven’t posted this one but here’s a back at you,
poeting –
some times
you want to take it in your arms
and squeeze
the life out of it
you know –
the dream that’s been hanging around
like an old scab
that never goes away
for the scratching and picking at it
even when it’s taken hold
stares you down
like a hot momma
with a grip on your balls
you know –
it’s the way it is,
to melt in the heat of passion
and lie limply
in a bed of words
Welcome back and thanks so much for sharing this great poem. I absolutely relish the endless creative ways to express a thought, emotion, experience. Will be looking for your new posts now that you have returned. Peace. -Dennis
I read another wonderful poem today on the act poetry, and I thought of this one, and re-read it. Wonderfully done.
Glad it touched you. Peace! ~Dennis
Poetry certainly has a way of sneaking up and taking hold, doesn’ it? Loved the poem.
Almost magical powers in poetry! Thanks for sharing!