Paper Poetry ekphrastic prompt
from art in a garden
Three hopes ascend, winged
pink pigs against gray skies,
in ever larger size.
The largest seems to be
cliche, for often hope looks
trite ‘gainst sombre truths.
Beyond the gray, green
sunlit leaves and tree front
good soul’s domicile,
while love’s clearly
lit up for all, from
each to each; of course
warfare can no longer survive;
the pale horse that brings
bloodshed and terror falls
by the wayside, surcease
and peace; wherever love
does flow hate falls, must
yield to our holy law.
No one will go thirsty,
hunger a faint memory,
charity the due of everyone.
Wounds will be made whole
and we will sing of healing
o’er all the earth; dance,
celebrate in fields and homes
where’er good people go.
~ Wry Welwood
23rd of January 2022
Response to Paper Poetry’s Week 2 prompt.
Attention: Carolyn Hastings.