Flute
"By the air that is your breath"
I would begin, and stand
On the threshhold stone
Yearning
Without fail or so it seemed
Through my closed eyes
I could feel your voice
Blowing
In a myriad of mild or wild
Tempos to match my need
You spoke in the wind
Announcing
That all I had to do was ask
To listen well or to be heard
Your breath in mine
Singing
"By the air that is my breath"
I would continue, and walk
The flute of my body
Playing
My feet feeling like fingertips
Holding down each note
Each long-held pause
Releasing
A Labyrinth of Promises Kept
It's Full moon, Flower moon and
May gets ready to burst into June
Time to plant soaked Okra seeds
Cast a line for a Sunfish supper
Waiting for Thunder to bring rain
Gathering the Blessed four waters
Well, Spring, Pool, Stream so clear
Crystals in a jug of sea salt water
All laid on a tray of Moon Silver
Preparing for a Rain Dance ritual
Say softly: Chalice of the Grail
Guide us through the Mists that separate
Reveal to us the Land within the Land
Free the Waters of the Sacred Springs
That we may Wet our Wisdom
Carrying our Prayers into night air
The moon comes over the dark hill
Fireflies light our way to the Circle
A shaft of Moonlight falls across it
Ah! Coming to rest on the Spirit Cat
A Labyrinth of Rocks spirals light
As Moon rises over the white pines
Whipoorwill calls up the Mysteries
Walking to the Center, the Heart
The Owl and the Pussycat went
To Sea in a pea-green boat, a forest
Listen! The Creek's riffle whispers
Our Ancestors the rocks are waiting
They are gathering about you here
In a Labyrinth of Promises kept
Rocks that breathe
Rocks that breathe,
Cool as night water.
Bright as a bluet.
Singular yet blended,
Like curdled clouds.
Scattered by design,
Dried flutes of leaves.
Spelling in spirals.
Dreams that are veiled,
In violet reflections.
Silver-skinned trees,
Float silently by.
No barrier to my walking
I left the socks
out in the rain.
Threw them down
in rank weeds.
Threw myself down
sweat and blood.
Soaked the soil
with this history.
Muzzy and thick
as a woven winter.
I've walked miles
in the cold now.
So I peeled them
and lay them down
Put my tired feet
against cool grass.
Felt my soul sink
deep into raw earth.
Felt no barrier
to my walking now.
Leaving the socks
to rot in the rain.
Leaving my spirit
unsmothered.
The burial
It came to me while walking
There is sadness in my hair
In my long bound braid
Samson's locks had strength
But mine held silent grief
In their burnished inches
I pulled back my thoughts
Until they weighed me down
I tied them up with that rope
No kind efforts to disentangle
What was entangled in my hair
Had honored the pain so well
As that thought while walking
That it should be cut and laid
To rest in the earth with them
All those dead years like rings
Around a tree's heart broken
Let them fall back to the soil
Delilah, redefined in Terri
Cut that plait away with ease
And did not make me look
Nine good inches she said
Would give a sick child hope
But not this weave of death
This was treasure to be buried
With those for whom I grieve
In winter's earth before spring
For more on the labyrinth that inspired these poems, please see the previous post.
