My body opens over the city
Like the deep blue sky of dawn Every pore at rest before daylight
You are not with me I have slept through the night
And woken up into a peace Not simply absence of the past
But the sudden presence of a future Fertile for the living now and here
We had walked in the forests The morning dew heavy on our nostrils
The sight of tree trunks black against grey mist
I had wrestled you For our differences
The way you wrestled me when I changed your name to confuse the angel
I must’ve at last learned to learn from that strength At last
I must have instructed myself Come to accept the absence, for
It astonishes me that my mind, the mind that lives in this body
Seems to have let herself speak to the absence
His icy breath upon my face And I have begun to question
Wherefore he’s gone on to reply
All this time when my hands
Can open your eyes Take you out of your own way
Unblot life from your life
I am the window in a locked room The lost key to that room
It is I who will bring your lover back to you
Not your own death to meet his Not another lifetime
Do not mistake me for emptiness As I am your only abundance
And know that my existence is always within reach A part
Fast and true inside you
So pure…and compelling…as always.
LikeLike
Thanks Bill. Happy you thought so.
LikeLike
Yes…I did. Really perfect. 🙂
LikeLike
🙂 means much to me.
LikeLike
I just call it as I see it…and you Vera, always speak so clearly and beautifully.
LikeLike
Thanks again, Bill. Appreciate investment of your time in reading my work.
LikeLike
It’s what I look forward to! Keep it coming!
LikeLike
Okay, I will take that as motivation to keep torturing my brain.
LikeLike
I’m grateful… but I suspect Vera…that your creativity is infinite, and irrepressible. Just keep writing… please. 😊
LikeLike
And…know that your work is something special…and separate.
LikeLike
Vera. How do you keep coming out with poems that are so beautiful? What’s your secret…come on tell me. 👈👈:-):-)
LikeLike
Haha, Sundaram, the only secret is hard work and the price is dead brain cells. It takes me a long time actually. But I am thrilled you think they are beautiful. Thank you! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
They indeed are. And I guess your brain cells just disintegrate after the hard work and reform into a more powerful faculty. Good work my friend…:-):-)
LikeLike
If only, Sundaram… hey, I think there is a poem in your words: disintegrated brain cells reforming. 🙂 Thanks again, my friend.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hahaa yes I see it too… such a poet you are Vera… Take care
LikeLike
And you too, Sundaram, look forward to your next poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person