We thirst at the pool of desire,
our reflections distorted in the liquid mirror.
Filled with apprehension we drink deeply,
soothed by the urging of an ancient sigh.
Our bones rapt in wonder, an emerald serpent binds us,
winds a savage path deep into the shadows.
He breathes his breath into us, regurgitates the ashes.
Curls around the ruins, a benevolent green shoot.

Eve in the Garden

art by Fontaine

91 thoughts on “tempting fate

  1. The art and words were seemingly made for each other. The woman’s eyes, like the serpent’s, focus on the forbidden fruit, which I imagine is the desire that leads to a consuming flame with only the ashes remaining. My imagination runs wild with this one. Do you remember your first poem you wrote that sealed your poetic destiny?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. A lovely comment, thank you. I
      Began writing short stories at about eight. My father bought me an antique typewriter and I wrote stories. I remember the poem , it was about the Seminole Indians .the poem was published My father was not impressed. 😊. Thank you for your interest Dan. I really appreciate that.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Such a remarkable beginning, Rene. As a child, I dreamed of wearing a mohawk and living on the land. I was captivated by the wild strength of the Seminole warrior in the old paintings and photos I saw in books. Your poetry has that life long richness born of experience and true desire. I believe people that start so young are compelled by their ancestral connections. Could there be the lineage of the Bards and their Dán Díreach brought out in that old typewriter already trained by generations of wandering poets? I’m sure you could find a copy of that publication in the state archives if you don’t have one still. I’m sure your father saw it in you and thought of where it might take you..

        Liked by 1 person

  2. That’s a lovely thought. I’m moved that he gave me the typewriter, knowing how much I liked to write. He was not into the arts at all, I still have the copy of the song book.

    Like

  3. Holly, I love “our reflections distorted” along with Lennon’s “Mind Games.” Not only do we play mind games with others, we play them with ourselves distorting our reflections. Keith

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are now closed.