The Next Mountain
I face the East
open my thoughts to the sun
rays peak over a hill
almost a mountain in its grandness
white light refracts into rainbow components
each color evokes a different emotion
thoughts dance with orange and purple
heart moves feet with each beat and every breath
I waltz through the brambles
leaves and sticks collect in my hair
skin scratched
I bleed out self-doubt
wildness fills my soul
as I come before the garden gate
inhale exhale
my breath becomes the key
the gate swings wide open
I choose to walk through
a river of rocks flows around me
pieces of a broken mountain
metamorphic knowledge shared
I understand what is possible
my heart follows the convergence
it becomes the next mountain I must stand upon
©2025 Marjorie Pezzoli
I painted these two silks when Ukraine was first invaded, along with the following poem. Spontaneous brush work looks like a person with open arms - gives me hope. It always amazes me what designs pop out while painting
First draft I was only going to share the first poem using a completely different silk image. It was a close up of an eye that looked like a mountain was in the pupil.
After what transpired on 2.28.25 these images came to mind. I know what mountain to stand on.
Bad Taste
roasted sunflower seeds
no longer a snack I reach for
life burnt out
no possibility for flowers to bloom
a land out of reach
is fighting to keep petals from falling
atrocities of war
start with one bad seed
this place has become burnt
bombs dropped
playgrounds
hospitals
homes
destroyed
more petals fall
the burnt land needs its sunflowers
sparrows know this
the crows as well
they fly over charred buildings
broken bodies on the street
mothers pick up pieces
birds take to the skies
release seeds of possibilities
life finds a way to bloom
I like my sunflower seeds raw
© 2025 Marjorie Pezzoli (updated)
till next week - Marjorie 🌻💛💙💛🌻💛💙💛🌻
Marvelous imagery throughout
Thank you for the beautiful painting and words, Marjorie. You’ve captured a ray of light in amidst a bad seed. 🙏🏻💕