*****************************
 Penelope ( was tapestries)

Skeins of colored silk
spools of silver and gold
scarlet and deep purple
cobalt and sky blue
the separate strands of my love,
neatly stacked by morning.
No trace is left  of the day's patterns
of power and passion
and terrible consuming desire
 

*****************

For what it is worth

When I gazed
in utter delight
deep into the eyes
of my babies
and made time stop
in our mutual adoration
little did I know
of the time bombs
I was planting,
nor did my mother,
before me.
What barriers are instantly dissolved
what floodgates are opened
what total trust and empathy
wells up unbidden
given the cue
of the same soft glance
and the promise of tenderness
to come.
Children
consider yourselves warned

***************
 Imprintings and tropisms

It is said that ducklings
just hatched from the egg
follow as their mother
the first thing that moves
be it a duck
or a broomstick.

One hears that lemmings
at undisclosed times
are irresistibly drawn
to the sea in hordes
in order to drown.

They tell of the new
generation of eels
that returns to
the never before seen
ancestral wells and streams
unerringly.

A senseless idiot part of me
like a compass
points where you are
feeling the pull
of unknown and ridiculous forces.
Enough is enough.

*****************

Make do

of such stuff then
let my dreams be sewn:
a patchwork
of old diapers
with peelings
of apples and oranges
for color.
For the spinning wheels
have long ago stopped.

Or so I thought.

*********************

Let there be light

I can feel you
still brooding over me,
while I
of little faith
beyond hope
beyond despair
wait for a sign.

********************

Vigil

The weight
of a poem not written;
the sound
of a song not sung;
fragments
        of
          images
Sly intruders
         of reality.

Softly she waits,
unfocused
subdued
not yet in desperation.

***************************
 The Alpha and the Omega

I don't want to outgrow you
to reduce
and classify you
into safe
two dimensional slides
condescendingly          (under A
analysing                   for Avoidable experiences
what went wrong.                of course)
After all
it is not long ago
that for me
you had no beginning
and no end

****************

All is well

We weave a spell
about ourselves
and those we love;
nonverbal incantations
primeval
make a humming sphere
of subliminal faith
around us.

Rocked
by the wake of disasters
that frequently fall
on others
surreptitiously
we cross ourselves
mute supplicants
at the altars
of unkown gods.

Racial rituals surface, to face the storm
unexpressed urges,
as we frantically mend the rent
in our sublime self confidence;
until the spell
is whole
again

*************

Passion is a fire
                 that sears the grass
                  singes the trees
                 and leaves behind
                 smoldering bushes
                 and the sting of smoke in the eyes

Passion is a storm
                  of wind driven rain
                  thunder and lightning;
                  all that is left
                  is puddles of water,
                  the smell of wet leaves and wet earth.

****************
Survival

Lost in the desert
without hope of rain,
I can become
the seed of a flower
ready to bloom
when someday
the first drops fall.

Drawning in deep waters
gasping for breath,
I can grow gills
and swim away
forgetting
the very memory
of salt spawned winds.

Endlessly falling
the wind rushing by
I can spread wings
and soar away
roaming the sky.

Deprived of your presence
trembling I wait
and do not yet know
which way
adaptation will take.

*******************

Recall

Listening
to the conch shell of time
records and memories
mesh
invoking a shimmering mirage
a remembrance  of things past.
Surely
        not just the echo
of my thundering blood.

************

To a poppy

 If you are crushed
and your petals droop lifeless and limp
my touch will be light as the sun in the spring
my pity the touch of the wind.

I'll burry you on a midsummer noon
under waves of ripe golden wheat
and myriads, myriads of cicadas and bees
will croon you to sleep.

*************

Nightmare

A wind , high and whistling left the tall still trees
the sun, suspended in a starless midnight sky
looked down a hole through to nothing,
a feeling of thunder crowds the air
of mutely frenzied rain in a winter draught.

The sun, the sun has left
and a pancake has its place
a dull bronze disk
mocking with its presence
And I run
         I run
              I run waway
from the trees
and the thunder
and the rain,
and the path unfolds ahead
more and more eucalyptus trees
more and more
and the way home is the longest ever
ever

***********

Birth

I refuse to be held down by anything.
no,
not even by pity could you tie me
pity for your weakness
or your helplessness
your quiet humility and complience,
these are weapons in your hands
crutches that hide swords of self protection.

let go of me.
I tell you let go of me
and stop it.
I am ready to go and nothing can hold me any more
not even tenderness
I have cut your umbilical cord
don't you say I have not
with a clean sharp edged reed stalk
and the cut is clean and final
let me go
Lethe is my name for you
from now on
and for ever after

************************

There are no more miracles

on top of a mountain
on the other side of the world
sits my lover, the sage, meditating

The dust settles fine on the dry riverbed;
the wheat stalks bow heavy with stones
and my pail draws sand from the well

on top of the mountain
on the other side of the world
sits my lover, the sage, all alone