Saturday, June 3, 2017

Cautious Renaissance

Beata Beatrix by Dante Gabriel Rossetti


I am a fallen angel, struck by
the thunderbolt of wonder and desire,
exiled to a destiny of solitary emancipation.

But, hear me, now:
I am also a woman of truth.

And so, I must, you know . . .

I must transport myself into
a certain willingness that embraces 
this brave new autonomy.

I must enact this deepest form of 
worship that knows not how to ask, 
but only to receive.

I must open, submit . . . believe.

I have wandered in a Dantean limbo
for eternity. And, I have fallen . . . 
risen . . . and fallen again.

I seek the promise of relief.

The sky will soon be evening-gowned 
in black silk and brilliant diamonds.

The oil-smooth river will ripple like mercury
beneath the milky glow of the moon.

The owl will weep once more.

And, I? I will fall 
like a lush tree in a postmodern forest.
who will witness this . . . ?
No one will hear my cries.

And so, I must . . .
I must this rebirth allow.
I must this Self redeem.

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Autoethnography

New Nature, Christian Schloe


I do not need to turn and look back.
i have been here before

Some things are
just as they have always been:

The sky is fixed
above the horizon like an
O’Keeffe landscape.

The sun quivers like smoke
inside my eyes.

The dry leaves lie
sporadic and listless
on the ground.

The path follows
a swift meandering line.

I walk. But, now…
i’m so tired of pretending
This is as far as my feet will bring me.

I stand at the water’s edge—a fishhook
smoldering in my hand.

I cast. I bait. I switch.
The fish scatter.

I free my hands from all burden.

My fingers filter the sunlight—hook its
flames in a dance of latitude.

I sketch upon myself a raindrop,
a blade of grass,
a swan.

Bliss weaves my body
with movement and light.

My chest rises like an unbottled cloud.
  
I am twirling,
lifting,
airborne.

Look at me.
Look…

I beseech you.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Double Solstice

Art by Claude Monet


And, now comes the river, rippling 
like cobalt snakes across a
fresco of glistening hills!

Its fragrance parts the crystal breeze.

We lean our heads into its brazen reflection.
We press our fingers against its radiant blur.

now i see you, now i don’t

The birds fall silent—
only for now.

Summer leaps in, dappling 
the air with chirp and blossom.

i close my eyes to see better

We walk to the edge of the water.

my senses grow sharper

We lay our bodies 
upon the grass and drink
deeply from the river’s collarbones.

A cacophony of joy smudges
the air, stirring our lips and eyes.

laughter… oh, laughter!

Behind the river, the sun glows
bone-white and desert-dry.

Revoiced,
we move towards living things.