References:
Lisa Brown – EVP Chamber of Commerce -
Dori Bonn – Co-Chair , NorCal French Heritage Society -
Sebas
tien Pridmore - Painter -
Eternal Dawn
This eve, as all before, in mists so cold,
Leaning against my old sequoia, dazed, my senses uncontrolled.
The pallid moon, a vibrant smile, the stagnant lake,
Plunging in putrid reflections, heartache.
The bark of the redwood, scratching at my back,
The treacherous sap of this vegetal pachyderm, a misact, Pulling me toward long horizons, dull and dim,
Nothing to my eyes, is then less precious than my own skin.
Without a shred of pride, I could have been a knight,
From the other camp, maybe a lover slighted in the fight, From causes born of sources, dead, tarnished and marred, Or just, perhaps, following my missteps and scarred.
Suddenly, a fractal, in shades of pale, but vibrant green, The song of the first black redstart, blending in the morning's first preen,
Along the robin's melody, amongst a thousand scents,
Of life anew, wrapped in the dawning day’s radiant accents.
A choir of finches, blackbirds, stirs my heart's core,
Cladded in astral powerful rays that the entire wood wore.
A fleeting orange shadow, is already in sight,
Even the fauho dares not to approach, in dawn’s eternal light.
Mater. Madre. Mother.
Hello from the end of the week, Sundays make you stronger, Apart you are not, as we continue to battle for her,
Possibly your sister, daughter, grand-mother or wife,
Possibly your aunt or just a friend, but for sure the ones who give life, Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and always there for you,
Most of the times forgetting her own self,
Outstanding, outstanding and standing true.
Today, I wish we can all breathe, laugh, smile, chat very soon, Here, there, under the sun or the low light of the moon, Eyes into eyes, close, touch, smell, taste, with no mask, Remembering the times, darkened, when a plague,
Saddened our world and spirits, sending into the vague, Dreaming of you, travels and carefree seasons, that is my ask, All, together, thanks to you, your joy, your love, unconditional, you all, You, our mothers, the ones through which everything and everyone rise and fall.
Happy Mother’s Day, take care of your mothers and all the women that are mothers, by blood or bond, or will be one day!
Mirage
In the cool morning light, in the pool's gentle water,
Stroke by stroke, length after length, I do bother,
Movements rhythmical, matching the woodpecker's chatter, Stirring the liquid, arms as foils, in muscular manner.
The pool's liquid matter, often so clear,
This morning seems different, fills me with fear,
The traitor from lands where the Abbasids steer,
Instills a serpentine poison, its intentions unclear.
A rupture, a breach, in the dawn's tender light,
My vision obscured, in cottony night,
Distances entangle, the end's cruel bite,
Approaches stealthily, a destiny quite trite.
A quantum fracture, or a deceptive jest,
From its hole emerges a shark, with a crest,
Striped, from the void it manifests, a Jacquou, a sudden guest, Into me, it bites, a red cloud, no hunger in its chest.