Great Is the Grief of the Grapes

How can the grapes endure such grief?
What forgotten strength contained within
their skins must they summon,
now that the pickers have come with shears
to fill their empty baskets?
They must be aching,
knowing they’ll be tossed in the press
that will crush every drop of life from them.
There’s nothing subtle about destruction.
It doesn’t steal over you
like the fleeting shadow of a wren at twilight,
but lands like a stone on a toe.
Great is the grief of the grapes!


Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Sunday’s Whirligig #241
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #5 at Poets United


Posted on November 24, 2019, in Pantry of Prose, poetry, Poetry Pantry, Poets United, Sunday's Whirligig and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 13 Comments.

  1. How I adore this! It appeals to my love of quirkiness.

  2. I love this – grapes was the one word i couldn’t fit in – so I love how you have made this the focus

  3. Oh this is beautifully deep!! ❤️

  4. The grapes are the fruit of the vine they give their life so we might drink from the cup…just a thought…

  5. I think I can taste the blood in the wine… and we know the damage that wine can do to an abusive man

  6. And great is our pleasure as we sip the wine. LOL. I especially love “the fleeting shadow of a wren at twilight.”

  7. This makes me think of the few things I have read hear and there about the possible sentience of plants. I have a feeling my next sip of wine will taste different.

  8. Destruction is not very good at stealth, especially these days.

  9. This held my attention from the first line. I sense in this poem not only grief but courage.

  10. Having talked to plants for many years I can assure you that mother plant thinks that once picked the grapeling child of theirs is no longer a burden to her but they are on their own hopefully to seek somwhere to pop theiir pips back in the ground to grow another vine to do as well as she!


    I love that fleeting shadow falling like a stone on the toe line. And sometimes they dry up and become raisins.

  12. True they won’t grow into a new vine but oh what pleasure they’ll give to wine drinkers in a few month/years time.

  13. Poor grapes awaiting a cruel fate to be crushed and changed into another form of existence, beautifully expressed.

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