Power

Falling
like a shooting star,
ceasing to be in a blaze of ancient light
Chronos catches me
with palms painted
in ancient runes that speak with no tongue.
“It’s magic,” Wind whispers.
And like a child, I believe.

Trusting
I frolic along a precipice
as if I would-not could-not fall into depths
so deep, my voice would fade entirely before
the callous bottom met yielding flesh.
And yet, faith & love keep me
on high, sharp edges – edges made of rock and razor
& painted by all the sky-denizens.

See Sun with her vibrant brush,
She sweeps broad strokes in warm hues
of gold & blue & flecks of amber.
And then there is Moon with her soft style.
With delicacy born of veiling secrets,
She tints the world
in shimmering silver, pearlescent gauze
& embraces the dark palette without fear.
Witness the Stars, vainglorious muse of many a poet
(& legions of the lovelorn), who sprinkle
sparkle & luster & glitter to add that
extra something…

Faith
is met, is held to its promise.
Like magic, myth or miracle if it is believed,
there is power.
I have power.

I have power.

I have power

& belief in the gift of beautiful paintings
done by untouchable beings.

Truth
like the universe, always conspires
to shift, to cause worlds, lives, beliefs to tumble
& I must cling
& find strength in chaos
to rise again,
changed in irrevocable fashion
yet at my center, I remain red.

Like an image, a mirror of my creator, I reflect.
I seek answers behind closed doors,
& like Wind before me,
find Beldam,
always weaving with wizened, lovely fingers.
She looks up, stitching never ceasing & answers before I ask.
“You already know the answer, child.”
& my heart shines, effervescent in its bliss.
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(c) JP 5/29/12

Day 12 – Prompt: Foreign Language

Today’s prompt another I am ignoring Instead I am sharing with you my first ever sestina (I wrote this awhile back).  If you have never attempted a sestina, let me tell you – I found it challenging.

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Sprinkled in Silver

Magic is felt and seen, at night by the rushing river
when all is sprinkled in silver, it is then I pray.
I let go of hard focus and open up my arms, empty
for the moment but soon they hold my dreams.
We dance, accompanied by lunar music, for hours.
each graceful twirl leads to more for me to discover.

Every star is a port of call, new thoughts to discover
and I swim in the constellations, like a celestial river.
Black velvet; the sky is my towel and for long hours
I wrap myself tightly in its countless folds to pray.
It saddens me; I can only touch infinity in my dreams
but I rejoice too, for otherwise the dark would be so empty.

I ride on comets, until they plummet, running on empty
to crash on the earth for some lucky child to discover.
I hope its demise fuels star-struck goals and dreams.
The night trills for me, cosmic arias that feed the wild river
of thoughts in my head, and I kneel down again, to pray,
throwing my heart to the heavens, where it stays for hours.

I just want to know who I am, and as minutes melt to hours,
light and shadow fill my being; answer to my query. Empty
no longer; I weep and laugh, I curse like a sailor and pray
as sweetly as I can, I exult and lament, get lost and then discover
that I am part of everything; from green fields to cold river,
rich laughter to deep, piercing grief, and of course…my dreams.

Revelation dressed in moonlight’s creamy drape, these dreams
I had held so afar, like a deity on pedestal and wooed for hours,
are brought close, not low, into the warmth of love’s river,
to commune with the universe that I am, far from empty,
making each of us more than we were alone and I discover
I prefer them close to my soul, instead of in the sky while I pray.

There may be tigers to be tamed in the light of day, but I pray
that with the warmth of sun and the magic of shooting star dreams
I will find a way. No longer do I seek so hard to discover
meaning, and though some claim the dark fills too many hours,
I just smile, for it is in the shadow of light that we fill our empty
hearts, when we finally dare to dive and swim in our own deep river.

When the full moon rises I pray, and let my light fill the dark hours.
I free my soul letting it drift in dreams, to return to me, no longer empty
but full of starlit visions for me to discover; precious gems in my river.

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(c) jp 2/2010