, , , ,

Hello everyone!  Hope you are having a good day.  As some of you know, I came back from my road trip to Alberta about a month ago.  Looking back at my photos,  my mind would wander – skipping the long distance, jumping over the fences and just be in that space of silence.  We were also lucky that the entrance fees to our National Parks in Canada this year is free, so that meant easy access and no barriers to enjoy the many lakes, valleys and mountains surrounding the parks.  

Grace@Everyday Amazing

When I saw a lot of tour buses with foreigners enjoying the sights, I thought, our borders were very welcoming to tourists. You can bet the tourism boom is helping the local economy.

At other places and cities, I read news of people migrating and arriving at checkpoints, some with baggages, some with just a backpack. They travel at great sacrifices and consequences for a better life. For those who make it, passing the border checkpoint is life changing, as one goes into an unknown path.

My prompt today is about border, that line separating two political or geographical areas, especially countries, or the outer part or edge. More than the physcial boundaries, there are borders which are invisible, such as an imaginary, social or mental borders. These kind of borders are more challening to overcome, don’t you agree?

Let me share with you 3 poems with the theme of border:

by Alberto Ríos, 1952

The border is a line that birds cannot see.
The border is a beautiful piece of paper folded carelessly in half.
The border is where flint first met steel, starting a century of fires.
The border is a belt that is too tight, holding things up but making it hard to breathe.
The border is a rusted hinge that does not bend.
The border is the blood clot in the river’s vein.
The border says stop to the wind, but the wind speaks another language, and keeps going.
The border is a brand, the “Double-X” of barbed wire scarred into the skin of so many.
The border has always been a welcome stopping place but is now a stop sign, always red.
The border is a jump rope still there even after the game is finished.
The border is a real crack in an imaginary dam.
The border used to be an actual place, but now, it is the act of a thousand imaginations.
The border, the word border, sounds like order, but in this place they do not rhyme.
The border is a handshake that becomes a squeezing contest.

The border smells like cars at noon and wood smoke in the evening.
The border is the place between the two pages in a book where the spine is bent too far.
The border is two men in love with the same woman.
The border is an equation in search of an equals sign.
The border is the location of the factory where lightning and thunder are made.
The border is “NoNo” The Clown, who can’t make anyone laugh.
The border is a locked door that has been promoted.
The border is a moat but without a castle on either side.
The border has become Checkpoint Chale.
The border is a place of plans constantly broken and repaired and broken.
The border is mighty, but even the parting of the seas created a path, not a barrier.
The border is a big, neat, clean, clear black line on a map that does not exist.
The border is the line in new bifocals: below, small things get bigger; above, nothing changes.
The border is a skunk with a white line down its back.


Challenge:  To write about border theme and include the word “border” either in your title or poem. An extra challenge would be to write about the invisible border theme e.g. mental borders or imaginary boundaries.   The form and structure is your choice.

If this is your first time to join us, here’s what to do:  

See you at the poetry trail. ~Grace~