Five Poems by Karen A VandenBos

 

Last Leaf of Autumn

 

As the last leaf struggles

to hold onto it's autumn

poem, behold the fierceness

and fear in letting go.

 

Why do we hesitate to accept

loss as the greatest teacher

when we are stained by tears

and invited to bear witness

to these holy moments.

 

 

Navigating By Heart

 

She dips under the surface

of watery secrets, stirring up

memories of primitive canoes

and leaves the stories to dry

on the edge of the river rocks.

 

She has left the mystic mountains

behind her and come to travel in

the realm of swans, wearing

their feathers on her back like

the wings of angels, gliding

through time.

 

Her boat holds the spell of an

ancient enchantment, seen only

by those who know the song of

mermaids, those who can read

the meaning in the reflection

of water.

 

Her boat, carved from the stem

of a daisy, it's petals open on the

curved bow wait for dragonflies

to rest their luminous wings and

bring with them the power of

illumination.

 

River birch bow down as she drifts

by, lost in her past, navigating only

by her heart. A selkie, trying to

find her way back home.

 

(after painting My Soul Is An Enchanted

Boat by Walter Crane)

 

The Call of My Blood

 

The places that call me back thru portals

of heart and bone.

 

The place where mystery resides and 

smells of memories.

 

Memories that exist only in my DNA

with oars lifted to take me home to

the land of my ancestors.

 

I travel thru time to the standing stones

of Callenish and taste the Gaelic on

my tongue.

 

Unicorns pierce my heart with ancient

Druid teachings and I dance in the

eternal flame of Brighid.

 

A badge of Scots pine adorns my breast

and I recite poems like the Bard I am

called to be.

 

I swim in fairy pools and drink the tea

of thistle as I wander among the

legends of the Highlands.

 

Callieach awaits me at the edge of the

forest and I bow in reverence. She

kens what I need.

 

The ancient song of bagpipes echo

eerily across the empty battlefields

of Culloden where ghosts still wander.

 

Standing on a craggy hill, I raise my

hands to time, roaring forth the call

that is mine, a warrior lass of McGregor

blood, Rioghal Dhream....”Royal

is my race”, and I remember I am

here in spite of the losses.

 

Scotland, blood of my heart.

 

 

Women Touched By the Moon

 

Today I linked arms with the ageless women.

 

Those with braided hair of winter and radiant

fires burning in their hearts.

 

Women with luminous bones, bearing witness

to sorrow, breathing stardust.

 

Birthing stories from wombs, shedding armour.

 

Fierce voices rising above canyons, hands

clasped in prayer.

 

Women building altars of twigs and acorns,

bleeding poems onto moss covered rocks.

 

Women being touched by the moon.

 

 

When I Cannot Be Grateful

 

When I cannot be grateful for the start of a new day

I will dip my pen in water colours and paint secrets

on the stained glass lace of the wings of bees.

I will brush the sleep from my eyes and lasso the

sun while eating stardust for breakfast.

I will nestle under a canopy of trees and sing

a lullaby to the crows.

 

When I cannot be grateful for the start of a new day

I will skate across the Milky Way and pour tea from

the Big Dipper.

I will glitter blank pages with magic swirls and

skim my fingers across the mournful strings of

cellos while tasting the poems on my fingers.

I will collect the petals of flowers and cast their

stories upon the wind.

 

When I cannot be grateful for the start of a new day

I will write a new beginning.

 

 

Once upon a time, Karen A VandenBos was born on a warm July morn in Kalamazoo, MI. Her youth was nourished by books and writing. When adulthood opened the door, she was detoured to working in health care for 30+ years and obtained her PhD in Holistic Health. She tumbled into the realm of retirement landing on her feet and was reunited with her creative spark. She can now be found contributing to two online writing groups where she unleashes her imagination and trusts her pen to take her where she needs to go. Her writing has been published in The Ekphrastic Review and some of her photographs have been published in Blue Heron Review.