Milkweed Ancestors

For The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #298 
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

born, radiates rings, snapped, rain, cave,
limb, spirits, thin, origins, stories, ash

For Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #110
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

tiny, old, flare, gaze, month, clover,
thick, milkweed, drifts, melt, parch, perishes

For Poets United: Poetry Pantry #352
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Milkweed Ancestors

Tiny milkweed seeds flare
thin limbs snapped up by wind
to drift in ever widening rings,
like spirits born in ancient cave
parched, seeking to hear again
oldest stories of their origins.

After the rain, he walks through
field thick with clover radiating
freshness, his gaze inward, thinking
how swiftly it all melts away, perishes
like milkweed he saw just months ago.
Like his ancestors, now no more

than ash, black soot on walls of
ancient cave.

Elizabeth Crawford 5/7/2017

Notes: I was very unsure when I first saw the two lists. Slept on it. The first stanza came easily and reminded me of a place I used to go called Natural Bridge State Park, located in Southwestern Wisconsin. The image is one of many that can be found on the Park’s site. There’s a hike through an open meadow, then a curving wooded path up to the sandstone bridge. Just under the natural structure is a cave marked with black soot, believed to be left by Paleolithic Indians, thousands of years ago. For me, it was always sacred ground, most often overflown by bald eagles that I thought of as Guardians of the Gate.

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About 1sojournal

Loves words and language. Dances on paper to her own inner music. Loves to share and keeps several blogs to facilitate that. They can be found here: http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/ https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/ http://claudetteellinger.wordpress.com/
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18 Responses to Milkweed Ancestors

  1. The spirit of the land, nicely done.

    Like

  2. thotpurge says:

    Beautiful poem..love this line especially: seeking to hear again
    oldest stories of their origins.. wow!

    Like

  3. Jae Rose says:

    Sleeping on it certainly delivered some magic 🙂

    Like

  4. Brendan says:

    Much yearning and seeing here. Much wisdom reading our history in the world.

    Like

  5. oldegg says:

    I really must applaud your use of both sets of words to complete such a compehensive piece of writing seamlessly done.

    Like

  6. This is such a captivating write!❤️

    Like

  7. Rosemary Nissen-Wade says:

    Beautiful, with a mythic quality.

    Like

  8. Sherry Marr9 says:

    How I love that beautiful Photo! Love your Title! My heart quickens at the ancient spirits, the ancestors in the cave. It must be wonderful to be there in person. We have a beach cave here. When I stood in it, I felt bad energy. Turns out, thousands of years ago, there was bloodshed in there by warring tribes.

    Like

  9. magicalmysticalteacher says:

    It’s the melting away and the perishing that disturbs me about this life, events which your poem does not flinch from.

    Like

  10. This is a wonderful piece tying back to the memories of soil (for me).

    Like

  11. gillena says:

    Luv the spell of the Seasons in your poem, over and over again, leaving their mark long after generations have left. Like good poetry

    Have a nice Sunday

    Much love…

    Like

  12. ZQ says:

    Very interesting and enjoyable read. I liked the sonnet structure.

    Like

  13. Myrna Rosa says:

    This is lovely Elizabeth. Made me feel those ancestral spirits. I like your postscript too. I must try sleeping after reading prompts. It certainly works for you.

    Like

  14. A lovely read. Ahhh, the milkweed is quite adept at replenishing messengers to hear the oldest stories!

    Like

  15. Your line break before the last two lines is perfectly placed, Elizabeth. Sounds like a mystical,
    magical place.

    Like

  16. annell4 says:

    I love this poem and your explanation, made me want to go there!

    Like

  17. thinking how swiftly it all melts away, perishes
    like milkweed he saw just months ago.
    Like his ancestors, now no more

    It was a fleeting moment and was all gone. The soots or drawings in caves may have a lot to do with the desire to preserve the experiences!

    Hank

    Like

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