Chronicle of Braids

 


Every yesterday tells its stories

in hands gnarled from braiding sunlight

into dreams the devil cursed with ashes.

 

Ancient ones listen to the strands of hair

as they rope dance their history across

fingers entering the passage of wilted roses.

 

Like warriors, braided tresses drop along the spine

to remind the grim reaper, no matter how deep the grave,

it will never silence the voice of ancestors.


©Susie Clevenger 2021

The Sunday Muse #177

 

Comments

Carrie Van Horn said…
First I absolutely love the title! The rope dance of history across fingers is just one of many wonderful and potent lines in this amazing poem my friend!
September 11, 2021 at 3:28 PM
qbit said…
"braiding sunlight / into dreams the devil cursed with ashes" - Terrific!!!
September 11, 2021 at 4:24 PM
indybev said…
Beautiful interpretation of the photo, susie. I love that last stanza especially.
September 11, 2021 at 5:20 PM
JadeLi said…
Susie, I like the idea of braids running along the spine as a message to evil. There is power in the braiding and power in the braids that come from it.
September 11, 2021 at 5:37 PM
Sherry Blue Sky said…
I LOVE the hands gnarled from braiding sunlight. How gorgeous! And I am grateful for the unsilenced voices of the ancestors.
September 11, 2021 at 6:43 PM
Jim said…
Old can be wonderful, I think that the "never silence the voice of
ancestors" is wonderful too. My only wish is that they would answer
questions.
..
September 12, 2021 at 1:45 AM
hedgewitch said…
Ah Susie--some lovely lines in this, sharp and poignant..I love the fingers "..entering the path of wilted roses," and of course, the strong finish with it's hard spine of perseverance and realization of what matters. You've made every word count.
September 12, 2021 at 8:24 AM
Fireblossom said…
I love that third line.
September 12, 2021 at 8:53 AM
C. Sandlin said…
This is magnificent. Determined, strong, and beautiful.
September 12, 2021 at 9:51 AM
Gillena Cox said…
Your title is alluring as your ending produndly stated
"
no matter how deep the grave,

it will never silence the voice of ancestors."

Good Sunday

Muchđź’–love
September 12, 2021 at 1:10 PM
Marion Horton said…
I love the idea that our ancestors' voices will go on forever (and thus ours). Your title is perfect too. What a wonderful read.
September 12, 2021 at 2:03 PM
Helen said…
Braiding sunlight into dreams, rope dancing history .... how well you turn a phrase!!!!
September 12, 2021 at 2:25 PM
Truedessa said…
I too loved the braiding of sunlight, it's a tough job
September 12, 2021 at 6:03 PM
Myrna R. said…
Love your imagery. This is a beautiful, artful poem.
September 12, 2021 at 6:21 PM
Linda Lee Lyberg said…
Chock full of beautiful imagery Susie.
September 13, 2021 at 12:48 PM
purplepeninportland.com said…
Love your title for this imagery-filled poem. I like the idea of
ancestor's voices continuing on.
September 16, 2021 at 7:10 PM
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