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Prayers of St. Dié
Mother Pray for us,
For the children at the school door,
For the Widows who carry the bread to the market place.
And the street sweeper under the tree.
For the old men gathered in front of the hotel,
For the young men gathered in England,
And for those hiding in the Mountains of Vosages,
For those arrested by the Wehrmacht,
For those who disappeared in the night.
Pray for them and for us, who wait.
Take my hand and come with me
Through rhythmic patterns and pauses
Down pebbled streets, between stone walls
Around spiral stairway balustrades.
Amid all the complexities
Of shapes and textures and history
Live pure and humble humankind
In simple commonality.
Feed the birds. Gather to bake breads.
Let's share their lives of tranquility
Centered in prayer, "Ora Pro Nobis"
In Aquila Degli Abruzzi.
Nice entries so far...
Anybody awake here? This is a month overdue for judging! Helloooooooooo! :confused5::confused5::confused5:
Pen
In Post #1360, below the photo:
This is only the 12th....5 days to go yet.Quote:
Originally Posted by Gilliatt Gurgle
But reminders are always welcomed. TY, pendragon
Maybe some others would like to post an entry.
It's only 10:20 AM here, but it's the end of the day somewhere in the world right?, so let's move on...Quote:
Originally Posted by Gilliatt Gurgle
Interesting that most picked up on the “Ora pro nobis”, when I hadn’t given it a second thought initially when taking in the overall composition of the image. I suspect, however, that Bresson was well aware of the words with his strategic, but subtle placement at the highest point of the image so the sentiment may dominate the cascade of daily humble activity in L’Aqulia from above.
The headwater’s of a stream begins with a prayer.
Pendragon
Interesting take by crafting the poem entirely upon the words “ora pro nobis”.
I struggled a bit with the meter/ flow of the 3rd and 4th lines and the wording “so much going on”. When reading about L’Aquila, I learned that the city and region has suffered through many devastating earthquakes, the most recent in 2009. The second half of your poem starting with “How the mighty…”, alludes to the past devastation, in my interpretation, with words; “Fallen”, “sand castles fall down”, cruel life”, etc., quite strong.
Inspiring poem.
YesNo
Short and to the point, you captured the essence of the “mechanics” of Bresson’s image composition. Having now convinced myself that Bresson’s subtle placement of “ora pro nobis”, is crucial to his underlying theme, causes me to lean toward those poems that make reference to it.
Prendrelemick
From L’Aquila in Italy to eastern France and St. Dié, you stumped me on this one. Perhaps the point is that this image could be any number of places, away from the battle, in a village of war torn Europe. Regardless of where the image was taken, the message is the same.
Melanie
This poem does it all; it speaks well to the cascading composition touching on the various elements in the first stanza, followed by themes of humble tranquil life in small Italian enclave their lives dominated by prayer, beseeching prayer and ending in a nice touch by mentioning L’Aquila.
“Oro” or “Ora”?
I’m giving the edge to Melanie.
Congratulations Melanie
Nice entries by all, maybe we can get others to join in?
I feel quite honored as I know it was a slight edge...all were so good. I was impressed with the picture choice which inspired many of us. Good one, Gilliatt. It made for a fun challenge. I'll spend a little time trying to find one that also inspires. Hopefully, it will be up before the end of tomorrow, maybe today even.
(oops...ora...ty, I'll change that).
So, here we go....
(deadline september 10th)
http://i1312.photobucket.com/albums/...ps758fe573.jpg
the cycle of life
it moves suave
across the
layers of
timeless prayers
a human shape
a lady's height
passes its light
silent but might
to evening's bright
that's perfect sight
Shadows of the Future
She is a shadow on a bridge of shadows
Etched by the sun on a background of light
Perhaps heading home, perhaps starting a journey
Is it dawn of day, or the falling of night?
Maybe today she had problems to face,
Maybe there's a long road ahead
She placidly pushes her bicycle over the bridge
Either ready for the workday or bed
The photograph catches only the silhouette
It cannot record what's in her mind
But she pushes her bicycle on to the future
And she comes walking behind...
Pendragon
© 8/27/2013
On the Bridge
She walks with timeless ease,
leading her bicycle across
the gold-divided sky—
above, the blue; below,
the reeds, and water
lapping at the bank.
Beyond the stream
lie trees and grasslands
verdant in the sun,
but she, above them all,
silhouetted,
passes on.
That distant smoke meant trouble.
The air is blue above.
She's silhouetted in the sky.
Her bike's by her. The bridge is high.
What is she thinking of?
The Woman.
Stop time now,
At this perfect moment,
As she stands outside the frame,
Held in unspoiled blue,
Above the grim miasma
Of the world beneath,
Before she steps from her pedestal
Down into ordinariness,
Before her shoulders stoop,
From the weight of the day,
And I let my held breath go.
The camera grants half the wish,
Her shadow will remain forever on the bridge,
A picture of enchanted grace,
Her body will cross over, back into life,
Dirty, grubby Life! with all its joys and sorrows.
The Golden Section
Portrait of a girl; a silhouette in black,
strolls above the vernacular
of her austere world.
Provincial composition framed,
in Mondrian proportions;
a tree, a thatched dwelling, a reed.
Sooty, burnt gray of harvested cane,
splashes the scrim,
of her yellow ochre dusk.
Upon my airy spoken wings
I swallowed all there was.
New horizon dusted with peace
Land lay to sleep.
Dawn awakes to day.
I feel determined to follow thee
Until the pedal of life is exhausted.
New adventures
Everyday.
Kittypaws