THROAT

Creature of benevolence,

My lovely one.


You trek the long corridor of

This tunnel you have dug

And come to the threshold

Only to bear rigid, cold thoughts

Like claws

And flash your separateness at me

Like a man with a gun.

I see your true intentions there

On your back like a cloak.


Yet,

I will wait.

I will wait for you,

With love and purity, with folded hands,

Asking nothing of you, changing you not,

Ready to clasp your wrists and lovingly

Pull you out of the depths,

Of the cycle.


On the green grass

On the hillside atop your home,

It is beautiful and peaceful and

You have painted many pictures of yourself

For all to see, yet you don't see.

I want nothing from you, but union is inherent

Within our beings.

When I get closer to the truth,

And approach your secret inner-door

With a knowing smile,


You see the gate to my heart is open


And you grimace and shake and

Your mouth curls menacingly.

You frightened man!

With a deep dark throat spitting blades

Threatening to gnaw at my bones

If I come near.

Awaken yourself and rest in your desire.


Yet,

You do not scare me.

I do not close my door and recoil.

I wait in the night,

Standing still at your gate

Shining my light,

Looking past its heavy bars and down through

Its dark corrosive tunnel.

Perhaps to find shadows,

Clues to inner-reality.


I will not shout for you through

The depths.

I will not hurry to the stoop

And shake you

Shouting, "Come to me dear love!"

That is not peace.

That is not true love.

That is not the way the spirit moves.


You are mad with rage and distrust

And the power of your anger has

Caused a landslide within you.

Your throat is full of discontent,

Of mud, of earth, of rocks

Needing to be surgically removed.

And you cannot make a sound.

Like a dog without a bark.


Yet,

You are lovely beneath that mess,

That bitter sheath.

You are poetry and breath and

If you knew this, could free the world

With your words.


I am here.

I will approach you with the utmost care

And gently wipe your anger away.

Your heart will be revealed

And you will know love

For the very first time.


Yet,

Creature of benevolence,

My lovely,

It is up to you to open your mouth

And come out of your hiding place.


I will meet you at the gate

And we can tear it down together.



stephanie lorentzen-jordan

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

OFFICE OF THE MORNING SUN

Chapters lay at waters edge Consumed by flames Disguised in red Like skins of blessed fruit Strewn thereof Feed for trough, Both swine and dove. Word on paper spoken there From the tree she shook the golden pear Or apple or cone or nut or none And from omniscience They did run. And man in hand She pulled and sent Until their minds were empty Rent Souls (diminished) Man did nothing deem But lead the way For death redeemed (it's finished). And peace and love and Tender strikes The heart of living Immortal light, With exuberance She did walk the line And claim ineffable Life divine. Think it on And ponder through As giving thanks And walking true A hand held out And benevolent beam Of sky and ocean To mingle blue With golden sunshine Blood in veins And heart renewed. The stream It presses gently forth Pouring, pressing, Pulling north, In disregard of vast periphery That tempt it sideways From source epiphany. And reaching now Its great endure The opening settles In seats adore Throne
Read more

SEEING IN THE DARK

When the night unrolled Its blanket of stars  Over The moving sea, Quieting its banter, Silencing its grip On the horizon She breathed in the good Of it all As with the turtles, the lizards The moss, the sea-birds, The leaves and  The slippery stones. Tree roots made their Way from hills deep into layers, Mapping through,  Down,   Following the scent of sand  And salt. Their wooden fingertips bruised  From tunneling. And sea creatures held on To fibrous ropes in puddles on stones As the moon pulled them  To drifting, watery beds.   She thought she would sleep,  She should sleep; Curled in, rested out, brightened up, Stretched wide By the firelight of the moon And the stories the ocean could tell, Rocking her to sleep Like a calf under the arm of a Mother whale; Drifting,  Never drifting Apart.  The crabs scuttled And pawed at her hair As the whole earth carried on  This way. The scent of the past day Carried off, Across water a
Read more

THE GIRL IN THE BOAT

The rose spots On her face like a leopard Lit warm as the sun overhead Held its rays out past the night Reaching to her like a child To a mother who had Been Gone A Long Time Beaming Across waters where Creatures had Never known its warmth. In depths dark and watery As the cave of his inner-being, Cold She doubted she was One, But maybe the Ocean, Blood filled And nothing else. Vapid and airy He glided over the earth After work, after long Hours of sitting At conference tables. Discarding his clothes. His shoes kicked off And fell from depths Like a broken ledge off a cliff Landing in the Sahara For the poor who hadn't Known coverings, Took to them as Super-natural. And the watery depths Dried, and the tunnels and channels Became like bedrock. Mystery was high above, On wings passing over Snow-capped mountains And your socks Dropped down too. Naked and filthy
Read more