Spirit Questions (a Rubaiyat)
Where dwells the spirit before life begins
Waiting to entwine with genes at man’s whim
Does it float in space riding red star dust
Or in ocean waves where the teeming swim
Where dwells the spirit when I took my first
Breath of life merged with heart and lungs first thirst
Spirit seems at home in this flesh and bone
Fragile body // heart pumping till it bursts
Where does my spirit dwell when life is done
As eyes close in death and the race is run
Breath leaves the body and the spirit’s rises
Rejoining spirit with Spirit // lives on
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
I posted this poem a year ago, but thought it would be a good one for Holy Week.
Today Frank at d’Verse asked us to write a rubia or a rubaiyat.
“A rubai or stanza in a rubaiyat is four lines long and rhymes AABA in iambic pentameter meter. That is how Edward Fitzgerald translated Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat. Khayyam was an 11th century Persian. Fitzgerald’s translation appeared in 1859.”
This is my first attempt at this so I hope I come close to what is expected.
What exciting times // earth trembled // lifted
Oceans became mountains // vertigo rocks
“There’s a whole lotta shakin’ going on”
Crusty rumblings while continents shifted
Ocean sands oozed into valleys //magma cooled
Rocks crumbled as earth played musical chairs;
Boulders break off //tumble like drunk men
Finding a resting place as waters pooled
Tree-covered landscapes rooted in new soil
Former plants were buried beneath the shale
Digesting and ruminating for years
Becoming black liquid gold we call oil
Rock that rested a thousand years or more
Catches thorny cedars on creek bank shores
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
Lillian, at d’Verse, asked us to continue our work with writing imagery in the Rubaiyat form. She wants us to add images and descriptions using our five plus one senses. Kinesthetic added to the list. This involves the feeling one gets when spinning or tumbling out of control.
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I sit amazed that each one knows their tune
Always on pitch they sing from morn till noon.
Perhaps birds love singing only one song;
Unending melody //making her swoon.
But how does a bird hatched out of an egg?
Know what tune to sing on their tiny legs?
And why don’t they try another’s sweet song?
Getting mixed up //and from another begs
I think bird melodies are meant to blend.
Like flutes in a symphony // all join in;
With harmonized beauty they sing their song.
Each plays a part // sweet symphony begins
Today we are experimenting with writing rubaiyats with our d’Verse group. Frank is our host and asked us to write one using the one of the forms suggested.
A single ruba’i is a quatrain, a poem of four lines. If there is a collection of more than one quatrain, it is called a rubaiyat, This is what Edward FitzGerald titled his 1859 translation of Omar Khayyam’s quatrains. The pattern can be AABA or AAAA.
I am using the first pattern in my poem.
Come join us at: https://dversepoets.com
Photos: Dwight L. Roth