Despite the horror — sequestered within — I feel the sun beneath dead skin; I see light beyond scaled lids; and press and press, with primordial wings, to lose this exoskeleton.
-
In Between
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-
God, you were the one to fear —
the one cause worth sacrificing for.
What do you mean?
“It’s all in your hands.”
What are you saying?
“You wish for my fulfillment.”
For what use, my sacrifices?
You don’t want me to sacrifice at all.
You’ve ruined all my plans.
You’ve stolen my thunder.
Oh, and it is so embarrassing
when you anoint my crown
and stick the well-prepared
fattened calf under my nose
and lord it up with everyone.
You raining sunlight on the just
and the unjust.
You don’t understand.
You are out of control. -
To possess an artist’s canvas
I make space upon my wall
and put up something crafted
so well and is so bold
it never gets old.
An artist has the whole world
upon which to hang.
Her most prized possession
is new canvas
or a person
or a new tattoo.Canvas
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We grow own sorrow or joy; the greatest joy is we grow our own.
Welcome to the garden
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-
At wit’s end, wisdom was my only friend. Difficult, heavy, I clung to it as it pulled me through the water, sea waves endlessly crashing into my face. Now I pick up little pieces and hide them under my pillow, undeposited. I dream of the day when I trade it all in for a ticket out of here — out from under the city into the sunlight, walk into the country to find the home I never knew: wisdom light as a smile.
Pax Regina
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-
I
Of this vast, radiant universe, I am of but one star. Would the panoply be precious strewn were not each glimmer a signal of richness? Of the multitude of criaturas on this round world, I am but one being. Would humanity be a proud species were not each a beacon? I count my cells, my breaths, my sunrises and sunsets, my schemes and dreams, my depths and feelings, my world that I take up and embroider. Each human is created from other humans, each star from stars. I have craved to be more human, more starry. I let it be and the riches without are become within. I beg no more. Let me digest what I partake in.II
Those indiscretions I was so careful to demur, they are for the taking. The paltry world bursts into color. My so-called evil is humane life. Everything is good like it should be. My heart grows in this soil. The evil name-calling drove me to starving; I was desperate enough to take what ill-suited me. What suits me is enough; perhaps everything in its own place.
III
Universe, thank you for the flash flood that canceled the trains that got me back to the metro where I find myself as the sunlight streams sitting behind two young friends one with a freckled shoulder bare but for straps, black camisole over scarlet bra, and a head whose mane is wild multi-colored orange, and the other saying “I have seen a lot of things, too…” from the back of her neck’s tattoo.
IV
Abundance
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-
At the forest’s edge the sky is half stars, half a fête of fireflies. I tread step-by-step into the darkness and there is silent celebration. A glow streaks beside me as high in the branches pulse living lights. At the darkest spot, I stop and gaze; the path opens to the sky; layers of trees quietly host spectacle.
Independence Day
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-
Stepping into Rock Creek, the name becomes obvious. I hop from slab to slab and wonder, but the journey reveals the river. I perceive the small stones’ certainty. I throw my weight into it and befriend gravity; rocks far off come within my leap. I commit myself bodily over water; amid the momentum, I bound upon the unveiling path.
Bounding
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-
I love you. I adore you. I admire you. A selfish love, if that. Greedy, for me your precious spark. Would do things for it without waiting to know whether it’s suitable, it’s tailored to your heart. I dare not ask the measurements. I imagine it boundless, boundless enough to embrace this fondness. Please.
Too much to ask
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-
I have not found peace, but I have glimpsed it in the happy eye of a dog on a walk, trotting, panting in step with step after a mad scramble after a fleeting rabbit or chasing a squirrel up a tree and at home darting beneath slumbering lids, chasing dreams.Happy Hunting Grounds
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