It’s 4 in the morning, almost December–
each day I return to you hoping you’re better,
New York is a hospital, dying and living,
machines full of numbers, the music of beeping—
Do you dream of your house with its ceilings and stairs?
Are you living inside it now, making unseen repairs?
As your past comes by full of stories and tears,
what you gave what you feared–
all the things left unsaid…
drowning in the unsaid—
Now each day is the first and the last and the always,
no masks to uncover, disguise what the time plays–
We come and we stay and we go meeting only ourselves,
spending fortunes and throwing them away like wishes in wells—
You hand us no thoughts and your eyes gaze beyond,
skipping dreams through the air like stones on a pond—
I see you there still breathing harshly with pain,
what abides, what remains–
will we waken or sleep?
to release or to keep—
Oh what can I tell you, what can I tell you,
what can I possibly say?
All the sorrows forgiven, lost tomorrows now riven,
our lives intersected and frayed…
All is circling round to the center of you–
you can be who you need to be now without fearing the truth—
And thanks for the gifts that you didn’t intend–
thread to bind and to mend—lives I didn’t expect—
And the years collapse spilling stories and tears,
nothing left now to fear–
all the words disappear…
Inspired by William Edouard Scott (above) and Leonard Cohen. The responses to Scott’s painting (which immediately brought to my mind Cohen’s “Famous Blue Raincoat”), can be read here, at The Ekphrastic Review. My thanks to Lorette C. Luzajic for selecting my poem for publication.
Also linking to dVerse, “The Art of Confession”.
The mandala was photographed wet (left) and after drying (right). The mystery and surprises of watercolor.
light and dark
into faces present yet
Nina’s painted skull mask inspired me to do a collage mask–I haven’t done one in quite awhile. I bought some books of space photos at a library sale, and I’ve been using them quite a bit for my collages, as you may have noticed. Except for some blue sky, all the colors in the collage come from space photos of the great beyond.
The poem uses this week’s words from the secret keeper, and thoughts from reading about the Egg Nebula.
Fighting for good cheer.
Returning to warmth, friends, home.
Setting voices free.
Making sense without despair:
choosing with hope. And singing.
I used this old collage for my holiday cards this year. Wishing, as always, for peace.
Here’s hoping we all find our wings in 2017. Thanks to everyone for your support and encouragement. Enjoy your holidays and see you in the New Year!