The Rose in the Eye
The rose in the eye
is as distant from the soul
as the sunset from the dawn,
as is the rose the poet uses
to rhyme or the rose
lovers give one another
to remember the past.
A rose, to be a rose
must be remembered with the soul,
built whole from the
imagination
in frames of
earth, thorns, roots,
petals and scent
by lending to memory
in bursts of sensation
the light of the eye,
the colors of the sun,
the sound of the breeze,
the touch of the soil,
briers and silk,
the taste of honey,
of dew, of milk,
the scent of wings
in flight,
of the passage of the
seasons,
of the flesh of children
at play,
the movement of the clouds,
of women on a walk,
the longings of
the soul.
Only then a rose
is a rose!
And so
is with love!
Do Not Tell Me Words
Do not tell me words
or count me numbers
or point your finger
to that rose.
Take me behind the wall
To the secret shade
the darkness of the blind
the intimacy of the womb
the dark side of the moon.
In darkness
I will give birth
to memories conceived
under closed eyelids,
in imagination
...
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