He, with speed, once descended

he, with speed

~

He, with speed, once descended

beyond reach of the voices echoing his name

~

He fell into a charnel river, its current carrying

him out to sea where, becalmed or turbulent,

He could find no sleep, no relief.

~

Assuming the contours of nebulous complexity

In despair he sank deeper into this watery world

which loosened the skin that bound him to lost memory

~

Sleek and facile now, he glided with a grace that was genuine

belying the anchor that weighted his heart

Until drawn by a patient star he swam in the shallows

where one day he was tempted ashore.

Too long untouched by sleep he emerged on dry land

with a prayer on his lips anointing the sand with his tears and sorrow.

~

Blessed by engagement with sadness he listened

his heart beat in cadence

with an emergent compassion

his prayer now in sync with the blighted terrain

he began to feel this sorrow was shared

Perhaps much the same

~

With a mind accustomed to formulating events and endings

Closer and closer he circled towards this endless wellspring

his newly trusting heart cycling up and down the mountain

of tension creating momentum between these opposites

~

Holding his own

between speed and a still point of being

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Art: Alice Wellinger

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I send my voice out until breathless…

3

~

There is a mountain

within me

An inheritance

that has now become a polished stone

nestled in flesh,

in blood rich organ

~

A nameless sadness, it nestles close

real as the moon’s rise,

born within

a pit in the stomach

a seed in the heart

~

“Take this strange sorrow from me. It is bottomless,” I cry

as I walk up and down

the mourning side of my mountain.

~

At the top of the mountain

I yodel like a fool…

sounds and sobs issue with spittle and tears

I send my voice out

until breathless

~

But not spent

~

In the quieting down

I understand this weight is a broken seam

that can not be healed

It is the rend in the garment

of the turning in and the turning away from.

~

This broken seam can only be mended

by the flame that burns

in an open heart

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Artist: Johan Christian Dahl  1821

He sang my pulse a metronome

#4

~

I once took a lover

Substantial as the undertow

He sang…

He sang my pulse a metronome

As mermaids surfaced mesmerized

~

He showed me between his strong legs

Thick hairs, long soaked in the moon

Permeated with his strength and compassion

~

To love and be loved is evermore

His words becoming the flesh of dreams

I moved like seaweed in his tides

Undulate and grounded

Melding with the cello of his landing

~

Compelled, the spirits

Shufflling wistfully in dust

Remembered their names

Became eager for color

Incanted lullabies

Spellbound by our heat

As it rose to claim them

~

Proud, my body animal

Went to ground bearing seed

I became witness and thunder

Rounded and swelling in storms

Unfolding broad wings bearing rain

A haloed tunnel of bone and cusp

~

All forgotten in the first cry of birthing

As in this moment my world split in two

And continued to divide into ocean and land

Both realms indigenous to the lost souls of Man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Artist:  “Whispers” Monique Passicot