I Ran Into a Hanging Basket
For Mary Byrne, who, upon learning I had run head-long and at full speed into a square wooden hanging basket (I had a mark on my forehead), declared that "I Ran Into a Hanging Basket" would make an excellent title for a piece. Well, here is a poem. One day there will be musical piece to match it.
A day - today -
I ran into a hanging basket;
Away it swayed
Swirling colour fantastic:
Scattering droplets refracting beams
Disturbing petals and leaflets green -
The world a swirl of bright evening air
Confused feet curled on ground not there -
Above, seasick pendulum
Just gliding, it slows
Weathered as one
Backlit scarlet, indigo...
If only, I swear
As stars clear my eyes,
If only I could so
Beautifully weather surprise.
-Leslie Opatril, 2015
Rider Beware
For adventurers who are tempted to duck ski resort boundaries to make tracks in the fresh powder. These words are a plea for you to educate yourself and think twice before skirting the orange tapes, fences, and barriers. Locals are always saddened to hear of the annual, and avoidable, ski hill tragedies that result from out-of-bound excursions.
Rider Beware has its first setting in a chorale piece of the same name.
Rider Beware has its first setting in a chorale piece of the same name.
Silent snow falls in darkness
Swirling through a deserted way;
Falling to rest on a motionless form,
A frozen body, alive that day.
Giant hills rise in darkness
Warning teams: enter by light;
Snow, in and out of street-light beams,
They watch, and wait out the night.
Rider, pass not out of bounds,
Rider, proceed with care;
Rider, must you leave the bounds,
Beware, be prepared.
At mountains' mercy you will be
Beyond man-made control;
Wild and untamed much you will see
Beyond the skill patrol.
Rider, pass not out of bounds,
Rider, proceed with care;
Rider, must you leave the bounds,
Beware, be prepared.
Giant hills, in fading darkness
Beckon souls: enter by light;
But time has passed - it's too late,
Too late, you died in the night.
-Leslie Opatril, 2015.
Swirling through a deserted way;
Falling to rest on a motionless form,
A frozen body, alive that day.
Giant hills rise in darkness
Warning teams: enter by light;
Snow, in and out of street-light beams,
They watch, and wait out the night.
Rider, pass not out of bounds,
Rider, proceed with care;
Rider, must you leave the bounds,
Beware, be prepared.
At mountains' mercy you will be
Beyond man-made control;
Wild and untamed much you will see
Beyond the skill patrol.
Rider, pass not out of bounds,
Rider, proceed with care;
Rider, must you leave the bounds,
Beware, be prepared.
Giant hills, in fading darkness
Beckon souls: enter by light;
But time has passed - it's too late,
Too late, you died in the night.
-Leslie Opatril, 2015.
Beach Glass
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Shifting with pebbles
Beautiful bottle-green grains of glass Glow almost iridescent Smoothly polished pieces of broken past From other shores, centuries, seas These shards sift with earth to be- Come sand from sand cycling with tides Wearing until recast. -Leslie Opatril, 2017. |
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