Poem -

Orella's Fire

The Lone Oak, Orella Ranch

Orella’s Fire

upon the lone oak watching,
ghosts and living herald my 
coming. unseen, they are soon
gone, as a sweet breeze roils to
rising and lifts me, like a song

to ride the wind, to shape it,
to make my run in dark or light,
unleashed, midwife to the sun,
without mercy, liberator of seeds,
and the life to come.

which way shall i rush or wind?
towards the lone oak above?
down to the whitecapped sea?
the green and yellow hills north,
east, or west? they all beguile me!

they call, "come, ravish me"
the grasses, sage, and trees.
as i pass, they writhe and bend
and burn to nothing, all mine
by chance to spare, or rend.

once spent, my scent will linger,
and to the lone oak still standing,
ghosts and living will return, to
fly, to climb and burrow, to grow
and bloom, until i come again.

 

Like 2 Pin it 1
Support CosmoFunnel.com

Support CosmoFunnel.com

You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.

Log in to leave a comment.

Comments

author
Marion

A beautiful write Mark...full of soul my friend x

Reply
author
Mark Olcott

Thank you Marion

Fire is an integral element of my hometown region. So are the santa ana or santana winds that make them fierce and dangerous. The native grass, bushes, chaparral and oak require the fires to efficiently propagate. The offshore winds can make for great surfing and as they are hot even without the fire, compressed and heated as they rush through the mountains and hills to the sea,  they make for a great beach day. For those reasons I love those winds, the attendant heavenly scent of the sages, the native trees and chaparral. Grown up now, I fear the fires that accompany them. They burn acres of land, from the mountains to the sea, homes, and force the evacuations of horses and other animals and people.

Orella ("golden" or a "message from the gods") is a ranch north of Santa Barbara, founded by a Spanish family by that name before California became part of the USA. It's much smaller now but owned by a direct descendant. The Oak served as a marker and as a compass for the traders and smugglers that used the coves below the ranch. After many, many fires, including one last year, it is still standing. 

maybe i should call the poem, Orella and the lucky oak:)

 

Reply
author
Neville

Wow indeed, what a land mark .. I simply can not understand why it has been missed except for my lovely reviewing predecessor Marion ..

You have painted a mighty fine and elsewise impressive picture here my friend .. most deserving of the like, the pin and all those stars .. I now hope that more attention will be paid by those that might follow, in the wake I have so purposefully created .. 

Kindest of Regards & All Good Things,

Neville 

Reply
author
Mark Olcott

thank you Neville, Dame Marion is by the beauty of her work, my muse, and you, by your work, an inspiration. 

Reply
Poem -

My Blue Heron

My Blue Heron

my blue heron

as i step into the cold and dark receding,
the trees across the water are as...

Poem -

feeling the Clyde

brother to many

feeling the Clyde

feeling “the Clyde”

today “the Clyde” is in me
the sun the loving sun, the
shadowed...

Poem -

Red Rock

a swimming hole

Red Rock

red rock

i was there with you, seems
a dream or wake, years long ago.

the...

Latest poems in Freestyle, Verse

Poem -

keys

he sits and spins with fervour
for many days and nights
a weaven woven choking web
...

Poem -

just another tomorrow

Sea gulls
paint the air

Leave trails
of unseen colours that
Before
were...

Poem -

Once a year

For my mamacita

Once a year the beer
Is sweeter.

It's the expensive imported stuff.

The stuff at the...

Advertise on CosmoFunnel.com