A I Long before I discovered my passion for using clay as a vehicle to show others the stark beauty of the land around me, I was a poet. From the time I learned to recognize words, I crafted these words into imagery that came alive, as it depicted the world around me.
This month, as featured artist at the Muse Gallery in Cottonwood, I will share these poetic depictions of the beauty I have found here in the Verde Valley, and those I have experienced throughout my life. I hope you can join me for this on Saturday, February 8 between two and five. As a preview to this other side of my creativity, I want to share with you several of my poems. I will have many more next Saturday. Landscape Tonight I stand, a rugged tree, seemingly alone in the stillness of God’s valley. My patient roots have learned to push through drought-stricken clods of dirt, protecting me within their toughened skin They grasp the fickle soil around them, not allowing it to wash away in torrents of anger, in floods of fear and hatred in this alone-place, in this internal struggle to stand upright, I can look above my precarious perch to the jagged cliffs the soaring peaks, the cloud-splattered sunrise now brightening the horizons.. Tomorrow, in renewed strength I will become the river that can nourish us, the trees. I will move up, through my babbling depths to kiss the sun. Then I can become the clouds that float above. I can bring needed moisture to this crumbling desert and its thirsty roots. All will thrive in the oneness of God’s spectacular valley. The Cactus I live with the sun, undeterred by thirsty sand. as I bake within its relentless rays, the scorching noons and the chill of vacant starlit skies. I accept the challenge of presumed emptiness, and monotones flattened into endless blue. To survive within desert’s vast vacuum of inhospitality, one develops a prickle of spines, an impenetrable armor to guard against a neighbor’s ravenous lust. I maintain my green tones of life within a landscape guised in dyes of brown. I flower in brilliant shades painted by the setting sun, adding sunrise’s forgotten shades of rose. No harsh wind nor biting clouds of dust can permeate my sword-sharp shell. I listen to the tedious tones of arid desert and hear silences impossible to detect in the busy-ness of life. Even in my own barren spaces, I warmly greet the friendly tumbleweeds drifting by. Blessing to You, my Friend May you discover how to live among these beams of sunlight, this temple filled with all creation. May you know warmth within the embrace of everything beautiful. May you thirst for meaning in your life, even at the times, when it blows through you like a gale of monsoons; May these reveal to you the face of Love, even when it blinds you. May you live with Holy grace, even as you stumble on the rocks that lie along the way.
1 Comment
Elizabeth
2/4/2020 06:48:00 am
Ann, You inspire everyone around you!! Thank you for sharing your passion with the world!! Looking forward to playing in the studio with you💖💖💖
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Ann Metlay"With all the beauty surrounding me here above the Verde Valley, how could I not create more beauty?" Archives
October 2020
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