August 2013: I joined a large poetry postcard project. Every day, I wrote and sent a card of my art with a poem written on it.
click on postcard to enlarge
Meteor Shower over
Horse Heaven, Washington
Pounding the earth, wild horses
Trample over small fossils of their ancient kin---
Those prehistoric horses small as dogs
Whose crumbling bones
lie in broken herds of basalt.
Wild horses bolt past dusty cottonwoods
Lining the Snake River.
They lope over blue green sage,
Running broad backed into the moonless night,
Under the cold stampede of stars.
Poem and art by Anita Endrezze
“Heaven has different Signs---to me---“
Motion contains the dancer
in her joyful meditations.
She is gathered by the energy
we feel in dawn and lightning---
and the murmuration of birds
is the soulful marshaling
of muscle and spirit.
Heaven is not just the Holy Migration---
but the whirling prayers
of music heard from the filaments
of stars and violins.
Who are you, child of chance,
who doesn’t hesitate
if the Light will illuminate
your mortal way?
A butterfly lives a month
but never wonders why.
Note: this poem goes with butterflies to the left
Somewhere they are gassing this one
And that one is beaten by her husband.
At dusk, the book closes
And rivers dry up. A woman’s finger
Touches a star when the bomb goes off.
The book is said to be a holy door,
Every word true to god’s robed men
while women’s voices are dust under boots.
The tree that knew god is wounded with acid,
fruit shriveled in the Great Garden.
Angels guarded that gate, too,
Not letting the riffraff back in.
In Heaven, the Eye
Note: the image is from my grandmother's Slovenian prayer book, circa late 1800s.