following

in fews and some succinct
far betweens
where seeing is belief, a chasm
yawns

-wait-
let me reassemble this and that
together

it will come

Open

in relaxed moments, boxes
like these
corners

converse

wait and see
or not
and never mind-

prophecy, like karma
thinks
a lone to only one

conclusion

there is no watcher here
a wake.




Painting by Charles W. Bartlett, 1908 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

reception

I was called upon
to light the candles
I arose first
to a voice
in the dark

and listened

Over my right shoulder
and above
whispers
as a breeze
would hum

and falls across my skin
like daybreak

It was not necessary
to know
more than could be heard
and I do not ask
for repetition
as in prayer

for a sign

a flicker as sure as
aglow,
I kept
quiet, in order
to Here myself
saying 'Yes'

while carrying the flame.


Painting by Godfried Schalcken, c. 1670-1675 in [Public domain].

Grains

More than once

you find me

Open, accepting

of the visit, intrusion-

Not that

it is-you are

-unwelcome-

Insistent, indeed and once

I look at you again,

One begins to recognise

A feature-

There-it is-pushing into

view, a rise out of you- 

and I felt I knew you already.

Somehow you seem different, today.

You seem bent by paint, 

or diffused light through crystal as

strung up window ornaments.

It is that smell that tells me

You are close enough to see the

expressions, stretches or sweat, 

through thirst and famine.

More salt is needed,

Wouldn’t you say?


Painting by Valentin Serov, Portrait of Olga Trubnikova (1886) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

tiny affirmations

Yes
I said, opening the door.
In he came with a crooked smile
his eyes down cast-
my feet-
bare
and stood
there-
I facing him.

with first blinks and a rub of my eyes-
Don't-said he-quickly-his hand
fingering the silky nude rose
pink petals, curled tips and
composed in the tiny crystal vase.

Get up-See-'Tis better to Dream-Always.
Says he, with a warm flannel smile
(around me).

Yes,
I slept a while-
yes, it felt so good.
I don't know if I dreamt
or what it meant that my
pillow smelt so sweet and pink
like tiny crystals, maybe leaves...

Yes,
was the first word
awake.
And It was good.




Image of painting by Frederic Leighton [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, Flaming June (1895).

Knock on would

When your back is against the wall,

you must turn around and face it-

when you do, 

you will notice 

it was a door

all along.

Image by By Bill Jacobus [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.