This is a place to be to be, this is a place to be

This is a place to be to be, this is a place to be

Skopelos and Virgin

-by Skorda

Swallow that campari moon

when first you see it
across the water,
rising round and new above the mountain.
Open your mouth and swallow
while youth holds its roundness near,
and you are running fearless in the dark.
Hold it inside, it is still warm
and you will need its light,
there, inside you.

Down the road of time, somewhere
after you’ve aged, traveled,
Explored, discovered.
And the dust around your doorway
has been pounded hard and smooth under your feet.
When you find yourself growing weary and bored,
when your eyes see only ruins,
and your heart is empty.
You may believe, in your exhaustion,
that this is truth, at last.
That the mystery has unraveled,
leaving no wilderness to explore or tame.
All secrets have been shared,
the frontier has dissolved.
Know then, with these thoughts,
you have been swallowed.

The warm belly of the beast
comforts with confining darkness
and lulls with rhythmic sounds
Murmuring to you,
Curl up and sleep,
just go to sleep.

Shake your head,
stretch your legs,
do not sleep now.

Remember what you know.
You swallowed the moon,
you hold it inside you.
Not as a magpie hoarding shiny things,
or wearing the moon for beauty
or bartering the moon for wealth.
You swallowed the moon for this moment.
When you will walk to the water’s edge,
open your mouth, release the moon
and let its light build you a pathway
across the wine dark sea.
©Skorda 2008

note

I do love having these postings on one scrollable page, but alas, there are now too many. I am dividing this blog into pages of 50 posts. Please click on "older posts" (just above Erase Fetish) to see what is no longer on this page. And please sign my guestbook, to your left, just under "Fata Morgana". Thanks!

Friday, July 24, 2009

those birds



Groundless

The blackbird and the raven and the crow
Join seven magpies meeting on the wire
Their shiny beady black eyes all aglow
I think they may have gathered to conspire.
The caws and squawks grow loud as I walk near
I shiver as they look right down at me
I'm brave but still I feel a touch fear
that I'll become their victim if I flee.
I hold my breath, their wings begin to spread
They're restless now, I see their black eyes flash
Then they take off and fly over my head
To jostle with the seagulls for some trash
So was this scary feeling in my head
Or did those black birds really want me dead?

No comments:

Post a Comment

ERASE FETISH

ERASE FETISH