When light struck my soul and I blazed
fierce and exultant into awareness,
I bled radiant joy like the horizon bleeds the sun
And when I gazed into the glass of exultation (seeing darkly thru that glass)
I knew myself and was glad and wonder-full.
Until it rained
titters tinkling, then rebukes raging
lashing at my roof and thrumming
drumming until I saw no more darkly and thru a glass,
but thru the storm and eerie
green glow of radioactive remarks and
careless cerulean (cruelean) comment, alas.
I came to know what I was not,
and I was awful (dropped an e I did).
Into days long and same, passing people
of 2 kinds that belong and never see beyond,
never see within.
But still I pluck
throbbing buds, thorn blood price cheap,
and hold them out on
my side of the glowing glass (dark, thorough)
and wet with stormy tears and
the washy rivers of assumed presence.
But flowers fade and grass withers…
wheat words last forever
dying and reborn to die and be born again,
as life and glacier glances grind
and move without mercy
till I am caught between that frozen moving flow
and the dark rocks.
Bones strewn around me in pick up sticks of careless hands
and players who tired of childrens’ games
(forgetting they must become as a child)
until at last long awareness bursts yet again
from heights dizzy and brilliant and bleeds over me in fullness
and in terror tinklings, thrumming and cold and stark
and cold blue clarity.
And I remember who I am, and know what I am.
Will you find the mercy today?
Will you find the care?
Will you go gently into our long night
and rage, rage together with us
to bless the living of the light?
You too are dual natured, all ye who
sing sanctifications’ sweet and austere song
(old and new in one fighting)
(dead and alive in one struggle)
(corrupt and incorruption deadly dueling)
You….are US. and we are you…but without arms, without eyes, without mouths we scream loud
and cry for release…cry out for
midwives of mercy to meet us, make us
beautiful for situation and delivered of our charge.
to stare down your stormy floods,
Oh Pharaoh’s Daughters,
and lift up
from the reeds and mud.
Light strikes in blacksmith blows again
and soul sparks chip off and away
As She sings and joys over me
And on this day I intention and remember
remember the radiant flood and bleeding light
of day’s eternal promise,
remember the rolling thunder and frowning floods
of painful gushing gouts and waterspouts in the
long years walked in the country of lost men
remember the pangs, the waves, the start
of labor as I, pregnant with my own mystery
and full of knowing
began to emerge and break forth,
by Grace, and
kept from the pit
which has tripped so many and eaten them
like Goya’s devourer
chews and rends
(let their fate haunt you and give you holy hush and silence).
They too are Adam’s sons, Eve’s daughters
trapped and yet aware…who fell by dreadful hands
and eyes of no symmetry.
Dare. Look. Feel.
I will too, and somewhere we will
fight off the things
that so easily entangle
and be free again to fly and
Bleed Radiant Light.