There’s some lovely imagery here Nora… particularly love the swallowed boots and the tilted scarecrow and the whole swings along like a half forgotten melody…sorry for the late feedback~I’m blaming the hormones 😵💫😘🙏
Nora, I love your imagery here. There’s a fantastic contrast between Dorothy and the Blessed Mother. I like how it took me some time before I understood that the boots are swallowed by the mud. And the last line about Bethlehem, PA has many textured meanings in its ordinariness.
Much enjoyed Nora. In my tired state, I can say the picture alone is fab. Hope your guardians are good company at least. Signs. Sometimes we have to make our own.
"Non sapere che pesci pigliare", as we say in Italy, not knowing which fish to catch. The guardians are what got me, Dorothy and the Madonna right there, and still only cool dismissal. The ones who should point the way just watch you gnash for a bit of insight. Do you actually want the arrow, or is the muddy slog itself slowly becoming the answer?
Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Martin. This poem is about confusion and looking for anything to lead the way out of that spiral. Destination immaterial, so I chose those of the two figurines on my desk, Oz and Bethlehem, but made it Bethlehem in Pennsylvania to poke fun at myself.
I'm not quite sure where you are in this poem, Nora, or where you're heading for, or why. Is it Bethlehem PA? And what's of interest there? Why are you making this little pilgrimage, with your guides perhaps asking the same question?
There’s some lovely imagery here Nora… particularly love the swallowed boots and the tilted scarecrow and the whole swings along like a half forgotten melody…sorry for the late feedback~I’m blaming the hormones 😵💫😘🙏
Bethlehem, PA gave me a chuckle considering the relationship between Mary and Bethlehem, Israel. Oh how far Bethlehem's have come.
Oh, good! That’s what I was hoping for!
Nora, I love your imagery here. There’s a fantastic contrast between Dorothy and the Blessed Mother. I like how it took me some time before I understood that the boots are swallowed by the mud. And the last line about Bethlehem, PA has many textured meanings in its ordinariness.
Thank you so much for reading and your kind comments, David! I’m so grateful
A little doubt and uncertainty along the way,
but enough confidence to make it to Bethlehem, PA.
Perfect, Nora
Thank you so much, Paul! I appreciate that!
That was a great poem. Nice ending too.
Thanks so much, Gary!
Loved the ending, Nora. Love a surprise!
Thank you kindly, Rchard!
Much enjoyed Nora. In my tired state, I can say the picture alone is fab. Hope your guardians are good company at least. Signs. Sometimes we have to make our own.
Thank you, Lily! Totally agree on making our own signs. I moments of weakness, I still prospect for omens. :)
Prospecting for omens, do tell me more ☺️
Ah! Just trying to see deeply into things, events, people for the tidings they may offer. I suppose it’s more about understanding than omens.
Great poem Nora, slouching to Bethlehem
Thanks, John!
Nice! Love how it ends.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Man!
Lovely!
Thank you, JEK!
Clever. I like the ending.Not clarity, just arrival. <3
That’s it exactly, Petra. Thank you!
You’re always welcome <3
gotta keep pushin'...you'll get there. cool en ding
Appreciate it, Ray!!
"Non sapere che pesci pigliare", as we say in Italy, not knowing which fish to catch. The guardians are what got me, Dorothy and the Madonna right there, and still only cool dismissal. The ones who should point the way just watch you gnash for a bit of insight. Do you actually want the arrow, or is the muddy slog itself slowly becoming the answer?
A presto 🫂
I love the swing of this. Open to direction - without limitation.
Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Martin. This poem is about confusion and looking for anything to lead the way out of that spiral. Destination immaterial, so I chose those of the two figurines on my desk, Oz and Bethlehem, but made it Bethlehem in Pennsylvania to poke fun at myself.
I'm not quite sure where you are in this poem, Nora, or where you're heading for, or why. Is it Bethlehem PA? And what's of interest there? Why are you making this little pilgrimage, with your guides perhaps asking the same question?