SEP 2011
On Mexican Yams
It was a time of the Mexican yam and I am on the edge of creating...
It was a time of estrogen and I am well-beyond ovaries and carrying potential within.
And yet—I can create externally now...
I am the fecundity in a marigold
and flowering broccoli in the gardens.
I am the flow of a watery stream
running off the clay vase, made fountain.
I am stillness drinking in the sun.
I am the warrior--slicing--protecting.
I am the roaring lion-fiercely sounding out
to an [American] culture devouring the children.
I am one half-
one pole-
one side.
In the coolness, I rock.
Waters shift gently within.
I am a silent prayer for life
No longer between hips-but in
the world-wide mother.
I am of Her.
My vessel is She.
It is bigger and more beautiful
than all of time and space.
She is my estrogen,
My Mexican yam.
On Sound
1.
There is a phenomenon
With noise—when it
Stops,
There is still silence...
And in that space, is there no sound?
Night bugs of summer orchestrating after a flaming sunset.
The moon—
Does it not have a sound?
Perhaps, a moon wind whispering over the craters.
And then,
Your breathing.
The most beautiful sound in the world—
Life, singing into you.
2.
Connect—you—me—
The sound between us.
The vibrations do not
Know the color of your hair
Your weight, or mine.
There is no eye color
Revealed in the notes
Only heart—
And there, we meet.
I draw a circle around me—
It is the circle sound creates around us.
Then, as if too staid,
Cacophony erupts.
Sound and pace shift.
Again, I hear noise.
Until that refines
into
Creative overlay of individuated expression
That finds rhythm and expands
Then, ends
After a beat of your foot on the wall—
now still, now silent.
I want A Circle
I want a circle.
Last night, I saw it ringing a moon,
Full and white.
There were colors there
Softly playing off the light.
I want a circle here now.
In this space.
A rainbow circle.
2 comments:
gracias.... (smile) Germaine