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photo via PxFuel
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Mother and Child
A woman’s fingers explored
piano keys, as though bairns
plowing through snow drifts
in search of hidden life;
the dancing keys liberated birdsong
in trees just beyond her home’s windows;
a daughter sat nearby mother’s keyboard,
slowly swayed in consecrated contemplation.
Wind rose in accompaniment; music
swelled, engulfed the neighborhood.
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Burrowing Into Self
……………..(for Alma Peggy Newell)
In silence we find the heart, the soul,
the essence of who we are.
A bird soaring, a dolphin leaping above the sea,
a bear strolling through a wood, an owl floating
through the night are all at one
with self and surroundings.
Seated in an open field where a breeze caresses my neck,
I hear a mother call her children across road, stream,
and stand of trees, and her voice will echo for decades
while her children grow and flow across lands and time.
Listening, I discover a still center I did not know I have;
eyes close and I grow aware of one insect (which I had not noticed)
singing nearby, as my mother’s voice sings from a well deep
within my mind. Breathing slows, and each hair on head and neck shivers.
A mist covers the land. I drowse and dream.
………………..Kigali, Rwanda, Autumn 2012
previously published in the author’s book Meditation of an Old Man Standing on a Bridge (Bellowing Ark Press)
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Michael L. Newell lives in Florida. He has had seven books of poetry published in the last three years.
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Listen to the 1984 recording of pianist Geri Allen playing “Mamma’s Babies” [Kontor New Media]
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