Hollow Bone

Breath moves through
the flute of me. What is
this lifeforce making music?
I open past my puny answers
to ask a wider flow.
For that, it whispers in my cells,
the bone you are
needs be hollowed further.

Carve me then, carve out
capacity for love to pour.
Expand my instrument to breathe
the world beyond my world.
Beside the melodies of love I’ve known,
alongside measures piping nature’s beauty,
let me breathe, as well, the notes of grief,
tones of suffering from war and hunger.
Let these together stream their patterns
inside the song breathed through me.

But let the stories fall away:
words of suffering and discord,
and tales of harmony and splendor, too.
Fling my tellings to the wind,
bury narratives in earth,
burn the tellings down to love!

When events are washed of all their stories.
and all I know through hollow bone is breathing,
then all that’s left is music.
All that’s left is music.

©Susa Silvermarie 2018



Beneath the Shapes

photography by SusaCloudfingers caress
mountain breasts
in lightest morning love;
whitewater lace trickling
over wet green mounds.

Newborn light shows me
beneath the forms,

how cloud and mountain,
lake and dewy trees, and I,
rise into life, into marvelous shapes,
from some single
streaming source.

©Susa Silvermarie 2018

Prayer for Travelers

photography by Susa Silvermarie

Merciful Madre, guide us on the Mother Road.
When we are lost, bring us, please,
to the next step on our path to you.
Mother Luminosa, when life grows cold and harsh,
cover us with your starry mantle.
When the road is obscured with fog,
shine your rayos upon it.
Black Madonna, burn away our fears
of the unknown twists ahead.
Tender Guardian, remind us to rest,
send rain to slake  dry lips, hard hearts.
Bountiful One, when we go astray,
lift us from the ditch of depression,
set us again on the way.
Medicine Mother, when we lie on the road
injured and vulnerable, tend us.
Woman Who Mends, send us Samaritans
and forge us into the same.
When we meet the injured of spirit,
Holy Teacher, put it in our hearts
to see beyond their posturing and crimes.
Generous One, help us to stop to bandage wounds
and give your word of encouragement to the sad.
Companion of the heart, walk with us
so we do not feel abandoned.
Goddess Mother of the Crossroads,
Bring us home, bring us home.

photography by Susa Silvermariephotography by Susa Silvermarie

©Susa Silvermarie 2018

Flame Tree

phography by Susa SilvermarieIn extravagant exuberance, the Poinciana,
on the crown of its forty-foot trunk,
lifts a thousand orange flames to the sky.
Some trees bear crimson, some bear scarlet,
all its children fiery, ardent, blazing.

Each cluster has flamboyant blooms;
each bloom, four petals spreading
three inches long and shaped like spoons,
and an upper petal, longer,
streaked with living yellow.

Bean-like seed pods dangle
rich as queen’s adornment,|
and the elegant umbrella of the Royal Poinciana
gives dappled canopy that’s wider than its height.

A gigantic flower masquerading as a tree,
the Poinciana shocks me with its splendor
and its speed of growing, also;
adding to its height, my own,
but in each and every single year!

At dusk, the fern-like leaves
fold their feathers up to rest.
I sigh in satisfaction, my eye still drawn
to the Royal Poinciana that ignites me;
and readies me
for keen and fervid dreaming.

©Susa Silvermarie 2018

Delonix regia is a species of flowering plant in the bean family Fabaceae, subfamily Caesalpinioideae