Cari Blog Ini

Minggu, 07 November 2010

...........?????????

lake speaks





I knew I was a mirror
when I stretched myself
wide and shining
shore to shore

but who knew
that the sky
would lean down
to its reflection
and fall

who knew
that these two
limitless forests of blue
were one
with no horizon

who knew
I was
the color
of the sky

monarch on echinacea


understand the night

understand the night
stand under it
as if it were your soul
poured over you

understand the night's design
the beat and hush
of great wings opening

the moon is dark
by whose light
do you see
the fire
in its hollows and crevices

stand under it
as if it were your soul
poured over you

butterfly having a snack


raise the dawn

red sun
with your fingers folded
do you know me

clouds upon your brow
do you remember

seeds in the urgent earth
are you waking

skin of the desert soil
are you breaking

sun
with your eyes upon me
can you touch me

white and searing
as a cymbal crashing
will you spare me

face the dawn
as if the sun
were rising

where will I plant my feet
to raise the dawn

sun behind cherry tree

it's not that I need yoU

it's only that
you own the air

and the far violet rim
of the earth
is yours

and the sudden forest
blooming
when you brush past me

here, where I'm showing you

it's only that
my heart
beats to the rhythm of wings

in your air

it's not
that I need you

ferns

in the beginning was joy

joy opens
your hands
each morning

and at noon
when you find your arms
rising

as if the sun-sprinkled dust carried them
upward

what is it
that lifts your palms
like pollen
forcing your petals apart

what is this
joy

this
never-ending
beginning

hey, bunny

more ancient than air

come out, you say
into this element

love has a heaviness
to rest your head upon

come out, you say
love has a shape
to hold us

when we slip like shadows
into the night
stepping into
the bare current

come out, you say
there is no breaking

in this element
more ancient
than air

bowl of orchids

why I don't write poetry

why I don't write poetry
just
open my head
and look in

see the flock of pigeons
turning, suddenly
as if thrown

a hundred wings
catching the sun
in a dazzle of white

and my breath fills
with the same
gold

words cannot hold it

see the raven of poetry
resting its heavy feet
on my shoulder

I do not hunt, it says
I'm not a hawk,
never will be

wake me up when
a pigeon falls

I take dinner
on the ground

Tidak ada komentar:

Posting Komentar