pushing
through
boundaries is a beautiful thing
round single cell turns to two
evolves into three
grows into more
nesting their way into
a compact design
alerting mother earth of
their One Existence
now nestled in dark, tissue-lined space
contorting blob congeals into
neat shapes-- limbs, heart, liver--
yielding to the yawn of one body
to come full term into the next
I am afraid of the dark,
of all the layers upon layers
within
I sit in wrenched silence
as the tiers and stories rise
and fall
shattering white light
inside these prism walls.
(previously published in Metroland, 11/02) Return to top
My Shadow
She stands on her toes
in the very center of me,
timidly trying to catch my attention,
a small, shy child. Her light is surrounded
by my darkness. She doesn't smile
but neither is she frowning.
She's just there waiting --
waiting to belong to me.
She wears a tattered T-shirt,
simple shorts, socks and sneakers.
In her small palm she holds a daisy—
She does not want me to take the flower,
but to take her-- all of her. Her humbleness,
her fear of loud places, her childish fits
of rage that comes from ignorance because
I have forgotten to feed her again.
She presses against me, offering
her simpleness, her fragility.
Yet she is afraid that when I see her
I may grasp her tiny arm too hard
and jerk her out of The Place I nearly
forget about, where my darkness resides,
the shadow of the reborn day.
She knows she must share me
with the rest of the world
and its artificialness-- for now.
But while I try to shore up the surface
she asks that I visit her often,
to take her little fingers into mine
and let her guide me inside, downstairs,
to visit the still night
deep within my earthly temple,
where the stars are bright and silent,
a taste of what truly is. Return to top
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