My Month of Written Devotion is for the Spirit of the Santa Clara Valley
It was a VERY busy weekend for me, so I have fallen quite behind. Four prompts are due today.
Before Lon found and we began this meme, I had been inspired to write this poem, and accompanying memories. When Lon showed me the meme, I thought “I suppose I should write about Lady Clare then, shouldn’t I?” and set this post aside for some other time. Now is clearly that time:
Love, Anger, Memories & Loyalty
My Lady’s Faults
I am in love with my Lady,
Overwhelming, unstoppable love.
“Freyja?” you ask, “The Lady of Love?”
I love Her too, you may be sure, but no,
It is the land of my home, my Heart’s Delight,
my Valley of Oaks and curious blinking Silicon.
Some call Her Saint Clare.
Her first people have had the memory
of Her name stolen from them.
But still, She is here,
running through the creeks,
rising with the trees.
So many trees! Apricot, cherry,
Peach and walnut,
Almonds, Plums and Pears!
But it is the old Oaks, the Madrones,
The Pines and reaching Redwoods
that truly mark Her ancestry.
I adore my Lady with all my heart,
But I can not deny, She has Her faults.
Though She might move mountains,
She is rough around the edges.
Her boundaries are marked
by poison, and drowning,
and castles of rock.
Some times She trembles,
Perhaps with fear, or fury,
I can not guess, and She does not say.
But She roars and rumbles,
She threatens to tear down my walls.
We are crushed by Her anguish,
And there is nothing we can do
To comfort Her, to ease the pain,
To calm the storm, or even to choose
When, how, where the shaking will begin.
Some people live with such tremors,
Their bodies seized
by some ecstatic affliction,
Their nerves raked raw,
their control stolen.
Some fear the next wave.
Some fight for control.
Some shrug and accept their fate.
It is not for me to choose their path.
That is between them and their nerves.
My Lady Land is epileptic.
She does Her best to insulate me
From the worst of the storms and the flames,
From the waves through land and sea.
But She can not protect me
I can argue with Her,
For frightening me,
For injuring those I love.
I can rail against
my lack of control,
And Hers, to stop the pain.
I can wallow in my fear
of the walls falling again,
of being crushed under the weight
of stone and wood and history.
But I can not guess when
Her faults will slip again.
All I can do is prepare.
To be fair, the greatest faults are not Hers. Rather, She is defined by the faults around Her: The San Andreas and Calaveras faults create the mountains along Her sides, and together with the Hayward fault, form the greater valley that the estuary of the San Francisco Bay fills and floods from the Pacific Ocean. The wetlands and mountains define the Valley, which has within Her only minor faults. Still, the Bay Area is such that, when any fault slips, everyone feels it.
Having lived here all my life, I have felt countless quakes, but one in particular I will never forget…
P.S. Lon is doing it too! 😀