Time on the Turn

Author M.J. Scott (U.S.A.) is my guest blogger today. I think that Marilyn’s style of writing is unique. I call it “narrative poetry.” Her three published books deal with nature, travel and the unsettling disconnections of life. She urges reliance on higher power and trust of intuition to navigate through the chaos of our choices. For Marilyn’s first blog, she wanted to use a selection from her book, Time on the Turn. It is written in narrative form. I have taken her same words and adapted them into  poetic form. This is from the chapter, “Fire Light.” And that is the name of her poem!

Fire Light

Beneath the sycamore gaze

the fireside blaze rises

and smoke rings curl in whirling, swirling circles.

Licks of fire, ragged, jagged and slender bend around the logs in hungry hurry.

 The evening stirs aside

to welcome only the fog

that crosses the valley from its resting place in Shenandoah.

The mountain stream keeps its path beneath the run-away hillside and makes its evening echo.

 I am alone to listen

to the fire tongue clicking

while the eager stream sings its own fresh thought.

A late-to-bed robin calls from the maple tree; takes a last look at today.

Aroma of smoke fills the air

neither cedar nor pine

But a Virginia blend of wood and aging tobacco kind

From a silent visitor’s enjoyment of favorite pipe in fire-comfort and vigil in blending time.

Sparks that could rekindle

its light like firefly bright

while winging bats play chase at treetop height in the not-alone night

A dropping log on the fire briefly scares the evening in front of the deserted house and races my heart.

I turn to lift up mine eyes

To where cometh refuge and strength

As a wayward lamb bleats a call for its mother’s soft nose to feel.

Sonnet in countryside quiet, medicine rich for the soul, I disappear into blue haze of mountain night.

To know more about M. J. Scott (Marilyn) and her works, visit her webpage by clicking the book cover below!