Cecilia
Soprano lives in Westchester County and makes her living as an organic
gardener and artist. Her poems and artwork have been published in La
Joie magazine and UC at
Santa Barbara among others. Her artwork is often featured on the covers
of Inner Directions magazine.
"The reason why we exist is to remember why we exist and to realize our interconnectedness with all things." WEBSITE: www.Amichiart.com or CeciliaSoprano.com
Old Structures
Tattered grey cob webs
Wave from the rafters
Gold dust fills the sunbeam
Streaming through
the cracked pane.
Empty troughs
Vacant stalls.
Musty scented hay
scattered on the floor
Horse sweat,
breath, and manure.
Earlier times that
bind me,
find me
standing at the old
barn door.
ON THE MOUNTAIN
When the sky dawns pink
Where cougars crouch to drink
When the soil sweats dew
When clouds whiten blue
Where the thunder boils sound
When lightening stings the ground
Where river waters drain
When the sky cries rain
Where the valley sinks low
Where the deer steps slow
When the winds lift wings
Where the thrush branch to sing
Where the aspen sway and lean
Where the meadows spike green
Where the poppies flash red
Where the grasses form a bed
When movement slows to cease
When I gather in the peace
When sun fades to the west
Where my body folds to rest
When a prayer from my lips
Whispers,
“Thank you God, for this.”
~Cecilia Soprano
She
is a member of the Greenwich Art Society and the Katonah
Museum Art Association. She has published three small books and has had
several one woman art exhibits. Her love of nature and gardening
provides the space for uninterrupted inspiration. Her intention is to
make images and words that describe beauty and uplift the
human spirit. My art is about making the simple sacred and the
ordinary
extra-ordinary.
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| "OLD BARN" PHOTO COURTESY OF CECILIA SOPRANO |
Old Structures
Tattered grey cob webs
Wave from the rafters
Gold dust fills the sunbeam
Streaming through
the cracked pane.
Empty troughs
Vacant stalls.
Musty scented hay
scattered on the floor
Horse sweat,
breath, and manure.
Earlier times that
bind me,
find me
standing at the old
barn door.
ON THE MOUNTAIN
When the sky dawns pink
Where cougars crouch to drink
When the soil sweats dew
When clouds whiten blue
Where the thunder boils sound
When lightening stings the ground
Where river waters drain
When the sky cries rain
Where the valley sinks low
Where the deer steps slow
When the winds lift wings
Where the thrush branch to sing
Where the aspen sway and lean
Where the meadows spike green
Where the poppies flash red
Where the grasses form a bed
When movement slows to cease
When I gather in the peace
When sun fades to the west
Where my body folds to rest
When a prayer from my lips
Whispers,
“Thank you God, for this.”
~Cecilia Soprano
