dVerse Poetics – New World — The Great Mother Smiles – a Prosery Tale

Mish is hosting poetics over at dverse poets and enlists us to create a new world

“As another year approaches, it is sometimes difficult to maintain hope for what lies ahead, though hope defined is really something of our own making. We can always have hope. We can always have dreams. This world we live in has progressed in countless ways but has also taken regressive steps, in my opinion regarding humanity. Often my poetry tends to dip into the dark. For me, the words flow from what I see as an obvious truth, a direction that our society has taken, without hesitation or contemplation. Today I am asking you to do the same. Dream with me. For this prompt, create and describe a “new world” as you envision it. You can write from a general perspective or focus on one particular scene in your new world. Try, if you can to avoid a specific political view. This ol’ world has been a bit lost for awhile now. The sky’s the limit. Maybe your world doesn’t have a sky. Maybe we live in the sky. Keep it simple or take us to Utopia.”

New World — The Great Mother Smiles – a Prosery Tale

Wars came and went,
countries fought and warriors died
until the Great Mother grew weary
and heaved the greatest sigh
the lands shook, the oceans boiled
and ash blocked out the sky

Those that survived were humbled as they wandered through a barren land. Lost and alone, a young woman lay exhausted on the scorched soil. Around her all was destroyed, buildings and rocks alike were crumbled. Then, she spied a tiny sparkle, like a jewel loose upon the soil, a shining blue seed and so she planted it. With great care and ceremony, she swept the refuse clear brought water to her tiny charge and whispered a prayer that shook the crumbling remains of her desiccated world “grow, please grow,” was all she said.

And it did, that tiny blue seed sprang forth in great profusion, bedecking the barren landscape with green leaves and tiny blue flowers that each held wee bitty sparks of power lightning.

It came to be called the Blue Lightning Flower and it is the source of all common use power of our age. We live now not as our ancestors did but with elegance and beauty, with joy and kindness of heart. There is work aplenty for those of us who remain, but the Great Mother rewards our efforts. The world slowly cleanses itself and heals from it’s brutal past. Our gardens flourish once more and our people no nothing of want or deprevation. All from one prayer, humbly uttered in a time of desperate need. Where once our ancestors demanded of their world, we ask and as we receive so do we give back. And the Great Mother smiles.

word count 273

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP