PERSEPHONE
What a work memory is – fecund,
abeyant, arcane! How apparently
dormant, inconsequential images
awaken, seemingly unbidden!
I am fifteen, climbing the steep steps,
two at a time, from the Underground
to the street – on a sunlit, London
October morning. I look up. Beginning
to descend, carefully, from the gentle light,
is a young woman, heavily pregnant.
She has become a persistent stranger,
replete with promise – unrealised,
as yet and forever.
Laurie Corzett
November 9, 2012Approaching Winter
Twinkling lights. I remember twinkling,
clouds resplendent awaiting snowfall.
It’s Persephone’s time below,
growing in power, regality.
Friend to post-living souls,
hearing their stories,
sharing her own,
from the above time.
Flitting about,
we sing seasonal phrases,
sweat anxiously in crowded malls
over inner demands for a never
remembered perfection.
Children standing in awe below
magnificence of glowing giant trees.
Cities return to primal forest
for an imaginary season.
Telling ourselves our stories that
Santa might find us worthy
of that shiny plaything that will
make us all right, make us happy.
Happy little children, so Mama
and Papa might be proud,
stop fighting,
tell us happy children stories,
take us back to the Garden.
Deep below, Persephone combs
her silken hair, long tangly
root
core
essence.
Magical petals of bliss and succulent aroma
lightly fall within the Garden walls.
The flowers are sleeping, blanketed in
millennial layers,
reverberations of stories,
plotlines thick with forest lore.
Snowflakes twinkle, lightly falling
drape long-growing trees
peacefully awaiting their Queen.
Ashen
September 15, 2013The descent, incubation
… replete with promise – unrealised,
as yet and forever …
Great capture of a process.
KittyB78
September 15, 2013Thanks for sharing your pretty poem with us. 🙂
Cathy
September 15, 2013Very good interpretation of Persephone and the Underworld. Interesting read.