Breath, by Maren Mitchell
Maren Mitchell
BREATH
Since storms and fear affect us each alike,
no count of limbs can measure depth of pain.
With two or four or feathers, hearts maintain
the same innate, intense desire to spike
all hours of need and hope, also the right
to loll in light and warmth—not live in vain.
Could we, confirmed as carnivores, still sane,
decide to change, not kill to eat, but hike
the trail of true equality, yet not
fall prey to further motives to dispatch—
stretch fields for food, obliterate, not learn,
for power and wealth, possession, down with shot?
And would the war against our mortal hatch,
the killing just for killing’s sake, still burn?
Hey Maren,
I like your Italian sonnet very much: good rhymes and movement. Kudos!
Ron Moran
Ronald Moran
November 26, 2012 at 3:52 am
Thanks, Ron. It was my first sonnet and I still like it.
Maren O. Mitchell
November 28, 2012 at 3:00 am
Wonderfully written, Maren. This is one I plan to return to read again, as I feel new meaning will come out of it for me. You ROCKED it.
Barbara Gabriel
November 27, 2012 at 10:10 pm
Hello Portland! Lovely to hear from you here. So glad you like it. Means a lot to me.
Maren O. Mitchell
November 28, 2012 at 3:02 am
very nice, my friend.
Karen Paul Holmes
November 27, 2012 at 11:09 pm
Karen Friend, my thanks.
Maren O. Mitchell
November 28, 2012 at 3:03 am
Maren, I enjoyed your sonnet very much! All the best, Glenda Barrett
Glenda Barrett
November 27, 2012 at 11:25 pm
So glad, Glenda. Thanks for reading it.
Maren O. Mitchell
November 28, 2012 at 3:03 am
Maren,
Super poem. Well written.
Brenda Kay Ledford
November 28, 2012 at 8:04 pm
Many thanks, Brenda.
Maren O. Mitchell
November 28, 2012 at 10:25 pm
Maren – Your sonnet folds like your origami, and each line has special meaning, I know. Would you take me by the hand and lead me to a better understanding of some portions? Your keen intelligence blows my simple mind away. Carole
Carole Thompson
December 5, 2012 at 5:22 am
Carole, I suspect that there is NOTHING simple about your mind! Folding and unfolding origami is done one fold at a time. The writing and reading of a poem is also only one idea and image at a time, until the parts become the whole. Right??
Maren O. Mitchell
December 11, 2012 at 3:31 am
Lyrical food for thought!
Patricia Deaton
February 1, 2013 at 2:06 am
Patricia, thank you for your enjoyment.
Maren O. Mitchell
February 1, 2013 at 3:16 pm