Moving

A short post to say I’ve moved to shortandsweetwriting.wordpress.com. See you over there!

Truth

If you drew

TRUTH

today

how would she look?

Would she be beautiful and crowned? Red lips and rosy cheeks, white skin and jeweled hands? – a princess of the realm?

Would she be scowling, furious and militant, with swords upon her belt and knives inside her shoes?

Would she shake the earth
as awesome as an army with its banners?
Or does she lie jellied, purple-bloody underfoot?

Would she look gently?
Would she look sternly?

Would she look at You – squarely –

Or would she look at Them?

Does she wear your collar round her neck,
does she play fetch
and come to heel
for you?

Would you run
toward
her
in welcome?

Or would you throw
up your hands
against her blaze
of intolerable
unending
and
unraveling
light

and
fall
upon
your
face?

I, Mother

If you had x-ray eyes
you might observe in me

the splatter of a thousand hours of wrested sleep,
the rags of torn-up peace.

You might see around my head a ring of eager flies
allured by decay,
like the buzzing halo of some strange ancient saint.

Chrysalis

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So much of who I was – before –
I’ve folded up and filed away.

Sometimes – opening a long-forgotten drawer – I find myself there, shelved, sleeping,
and I gaze with wonder – and the faintest stir

of recognition.

Soul Shy

Days long ago I wrestled with

God.

Stormed his walls and claimed his ear.

Today, I fidgeted, and watched my feet, and stammered a triviality.

How shy of you I am,
how anxiously I tiptoe now
going past your door,

for fear

that You might hear me.

Ocean

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It has taken me years to befriend the beach,
To believe in the warmth of sand and of light,

For

I felt

As a child,

Only the alien
green
immensity

of the unfriending sea.

Luxury

When I was young,
so very young,
and I had all the world and time
for every venture,
for every fancy’s flight,
still
I never had enough.

Now,

I cram an hour in an instant,

And luxury is easily found.

Snowfall

My back against cold cinderblock –

my six weeks’ babe in arms –

while through the triple window
over wood and waxy leaves
snow falls in slant surprising lines –

And from the big bright room outside,
words too
fall
weighted with a wonderful surprise:

“Thou son of David –
Joseph! –
Fear not.

The virgin is with child.”

Buried Treasure

DeathtoStock_Clementine10

If stars leave trails
And fairies leave dust,

Then parents leave gold

In flecks –

Over their children’s hearts.

Unseen –

Till time, the great miner, proves

You left

Gold

or

Poison.