It was the prison of her body that
I saw beneath her downward gaze, but more.
Her mind lay in a quiet turbulence,
still knowing something I did not, and still
content to hide it from my probe. Yet my
humanity looked in and saw saturnine
shadows roiling.
I wished that I could cleave them, rearrange
their mad procession, but I knew there was
a reason of its own that drove them on,
defining shapes and setting courses for
a dance of death, perhaps, a mystery
that gifted her alone.
My mother, quite unknowing, peerless, left
me there, amazed by all the wisdom she
alone could understand...that one so near
and still eons away could bear to set
upon a course that left her rolling chair
and every soul she ever knew, behind.
~
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2 comments:
>>Her mind lay in a quiet turbulence,
still knowing something I did not<<
This is a striking poem. Your stuff is some of the finest I've come across in the blogosphere so far.
I agree with what Ariel says... I have always stood in awe over your incredible talent for words and the brilliance of your poetry. Under some harsh but definitive, and supportive, criticism from your fellow poets, I have seen your early work develop into the insightful poems that now seems to flow so easily from your pen. Your creativity and love for the language shine through your art.
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