Solstice

We are but humble folk,
You and I,
And yet the Sun rises for
Us.
The darkness which has consumed
Our waking moments,
And shrouded our land
In white veils
Of mourning,
Is vanquished.
The Sun rises for
Us.

Darkest Night

i am not afraid of the dark.
no, not i.
darkness is womb,
is lovers beneath
quilts.
darkness is the color
of dreams,
of peace for weary
eyelids.
i am not afraid
to be an egg
before the hatching.

Let Not Your Grief Be Proud

let not your grief be proud,
you who are bereft.
be as a broken mother,
in whose sorrow
there is no sour sting:
only love,
so great and deep
as to drown.

Hatred is a Bitter Frost

hatred is a bitter frost:
a trial indeed
for seeds of compassion
sown in soil
now frigid
and stale.
let us coax back the
Sun,
let us hasten the
Great Thaw,
and in the cautious spring,
watch with prayerful eyes
for shoots of green.

Little Ones

Little ones of the Earth--
You too
Are God's marvelous creations;
You too
Are magnificent creatures.
In your playing and fighting,
Your wide-eyed discoveries,
Your unadulterated affections,
And need for care,
Even in the sweet little
Sounds
You make,
You are children of the Universe.
Be not afraid,
Little Ones.
The world is yours.

Person Suit

i feel as though
you have cut into my
person suit.
i shall sew it up,
trying to mimic the
meticulous construction
with which it was tailored,
but i know it shall never be
the same.
this person suit,
this human veil,
does not do well with the
needle and thread
of stitched pride.

Dance With Death, Beautiful Ones

why does no one ever talk about
how beautiful
violence
is?
oh the gorgeous rage of thunder
claps of blood from birth pain
in waves of crushing wind
blown fire lovely in its
chaos--
it's stunning;
the destruction
in which we are made
anew.
<spill my blood skin me break my bones>
and i shall
smile
at the elegance.
dance with death, beautiful ones.
violence creates
life.

Inheritance

deoxyribonucleic acid
rhymes with
nothing.
funny that
inheritance
should be
free verse.

Expiration Date

a taxi driver in

vienna

once told me,

"we all have an 

expiration date

stamped on us,"

as he drove me to the

hapsburg crypt.

a bit morbid, perhaps,

but fitting

in a city wrested

with the 

bones of empire.

i thought of him

again,

when the doctors 

pulled away my skin

and showed me my 

expiration date.

i drove home

laughing morbidly,

by body wrested

with the bones of

irony. 

yeast

beware the yeast of the
sadducees
and expired bread mixes
dough stale and turgid
clinging to my
bread machine
refusing to grow
the rise of modern life
invincible righteousness
plugged into walls
the fall of crusty golden
parables
the graininess of truth

Wisdom

when i think
your thoughts
strands of
your hair
grow in
my head
perhaps someday
my locks shall be
full of wisdom

Other Lover

death is my other lover.
a covert courtship,
he beckons for me
to leave you once and for all
and taste his consummate embrace.

with death i flirt i kiss.
i yearn with jealous passion
to be like the lovers he has
claimed in eternity's bed.

and death throws stones at my window
in the night,
daring me to run away
with him.
but i do not go.

curses to my infidelity i do not go.
i will not leave you,
lover in life in sweet stained bed.
i will not leave you all alone,
to face the rising sun the pulse of blood
in a heart still alive enough for pain.

i will not do that to you.

kisses only, death.
i am a married woman.

Touch Me, Says the Earth

touch me,
says the earth.
i am no longer barren
with winter's bones.
i will respond with the
fierceness of fertility.
i will not flinch or run away,
but laugh and laugh,
shaking free my
rainclouds
of their winsome glory.
touch me,
and even the roots of the
cedars
will shiver and quake.

I Envy the River Rock

i envy the river rock
all edges worn smooth
by the heavy breathing tumble
waves in steady rush
grain by grain
over such patience, time
Purified
in the river's endless hands

yes, i envy the river rock
for my legs, so chapped and pink
stung in the holy cold
of the river's unrelent
all my edges crying out
in gasping chill
beneath my aching
feet, the smooth stones
overcome
i run back to shore

perhaps if i had the endurance
of a river rock
i would stay in the water
let its exuberant cold
wash over me
sacred in its winnow, wave
grain by grain
patience, time
Purified

We Walk On The Path To The Sun

We walk on the path
To the Sun.
No darkness
That will not be
Illuminated.
No sorrow
That will not be
Comforted.
No burden
That will not be
Laid down.
Shadows only mark
The approach of Light.
Tired feet, feel
The warming ground.
We walk on the path
To the Sun.

sleep

he held me
when i shook.
bad dream tremors
hushed
into warm chest.
he held me
when i shook
in the night.
must i ever sleep again
alone?

horizon

horizon--
how stubborn your obstruction
of where this road leads.
you give me but a (vanishing) point,
held in your distant smile,
and all my struggled projections
lead only to it.
why will you not reveal what lies beyond?
why not open your mouth to the
sky, (speak sing)
unfolding all the threads
wound up
(in your throat)
on Time's tantalizing
spindle?
but alas--
you remain but a (silent) smile,
holding quietly the gravity
to which all my movements
lead.

Undone

When you are away,
I come undone.
The rivets and ropes,
Which kept my thoughts
In place,
Loosen and fall away.
The cogs and gears,
Which kept my world turning,
Grind to a stop.
My energies are lost in vast
Expanses:
No direction,
No path.

I am at the mercy of scouring winds.
I am blown about,
Dripping and oozing from the seams.
My heart, once nested,
Soothed,
Flutters anxiously throughout my
Body,
Looking for a way out.

Come back, love.
Make me anew.

The Kitchen Sink

The kitchen sink is broke.
Drip, drip in the night.
The plumber man says he can't fix it.
Snowy footsteps back out the front door.
I stand in the kitchen looking at the sink.
Drip, drip. Pale noon light.
A house so empty the noise like thunderous
Footsteps of giants. Even when eating,
Empty chairs at a table
Three-quarters dusty.
Drip, drip at dinner's dusk.
I pile the dishes in the sink,
All broke as it is.
I'll do them in the morning.
To bed, empty, in house, empty.
Drip, drip in the night.

Bitter Wind

bitter wind
so sour your sting
a million hissing slaps
to chaffed cheeks
why your bitterness?
why your ire?

Courage

Courage
Is the feel of carpet
Burning your cheek,
As tears ooze
Into the plastic fibers,
When you slowly reach
Your hands,
Palms down,
On either side of you,
And feebly push,
One last time,
Your body from the floor.

Courage is the tear-stained rug
You leave behind.