Water, Water Everywhere

The three mamas needed music,
and finally had the chance
to listen to Judy Collins
and dance their spiral dance.

The festival was five days in
on the sweltering hot prairie,
thick black clouds filled the
air all day,
anticipating their moment
of glory.

A tiny baby they held in tow,
their children they set free
to run and laugh and play
at the home of ole Woody Guthrie.

But the moment they stepped
out of their car
a tempest burst wide open,
and water, water
was everywhere,
before hardly a word
had been spoken.

Go back, go back,
the show cannot continue,
hearts heavy with sadness
the crowds moved out
in search of an indoor venue.

But wait, this water, it’s
not really here,
if you just look
between the drops,
dissipation can be
found if we just twirl
and dance and hop.

Being water ourselves
somehow the water
drew back in an instant.
High winds blew back
this overhead sea ~
pushed it back
to the sides of the prairie.

Flashes of blue electricity
provided the best light show,
and they danced under the moon
to the sound of Nature’s drums
syncopating with blue,
Judy Collins sang Blue too,
bringing peace to
the vast sea of people.

Red dirt people here,
defenders of human rights,
here they dropped their
worldly cares
as pure magic
filled the air
that night
long ago
in Okemah.

@Kamea Moonmaiden

This picture of Oklahoma skies is what it looked like the next day.


    • Yay! That’s so wonderful. I tried to attempt to stuff it from prose format or actually narrative into one poem and it was endlessly long. The day four prompt from the poet’s billow was a great tool for just opening up to this. I didn’t even look at my senior poetry class notes at all, but did have the spiral very close to me.

      Thank you so much!

      Liked by 1 person

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