Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Blink. Click.

Panning the room,
my eyes settle softly
on each spirit here
her hair, a wild mane - -
oh how beautiful it frames her face
round with curves, rich with laughter
- - a waiting portrait for unworthy lens;
and she, of the caramel skin
and thick twisted locks
hers, a chisled face
reminiscent of native roots
still climbing, growing strong in her;
and still another inviting smile
captures my gaze, welcomes connection.
Countless faces, I catch myself soaking in,
staring at diverse wealth of beauty.
The room, a treasure of individuality
encased in one space
I see a portrait in each eye blink.
Can I stop in this moment with a click?
*inspired by Continuous Fire conference

1 comment:

aMorita-Sa said...

Hi Rachelle. I really like this poem. I read it twice and it was with the second time that I took delight in it's rhythm. I see the beauty in what you saw.