Month: May 2013

The fiftieth day

They must have been sorely missing their friend
by the fiftieth day.

True, he surprised them all
walking alongside them and
into rooms through closed doors
in those first days.
Dead but not dead,
alive but somehow not.

They must have spent time
in other rooms,
wondering “What do we do now?
How do we do now?”
And only doubting in the presence of each other
whether This Thing was going to work,
or indeed, had ever even happened.

Then that fiftieth day with cold fire came.
Men, women, all lovers of the path,
as One
sang the Only Song in the Only Language,
loud enough to ring through centuries.

Ah, for that  freezing hot clarity
to burn away the doubts that dwell in my own rooms,

murmuring in a language I do not know.

A visit from the walrus, for Julianne

Swept from half-awake-land
by a tempest of pages ripped from storybooks,
She toss’t and tumble’t down,
down.

The tiara danced out of reach,
regal it shone,
taunting.

A land beyond lands was once hers

felt solid to the sole, but
sucked her down
down
like spun-sugar gravy,
sicky sweet.

A cry, a grasp
and the hero came to weigh her up.
“Speak to me of princess things!”
she beseeched
and he replied,
“I will tell a tale
of you, and you alone.”