“TULIPS”

Oh, When Will The Tulips Come Up?

When Will the soft young Crocus

Children peep their heads out of

 the snow-ridden, tremulous

earth?

How many worlds have past since

I saw you last in a dream!

When will the young nubs of leaflets

Shoot out from the earth? The

-branches- of- a-

Pear Tree. (!)

How I long to see a pear tree!

How I long to see the kiwi

Vine, the ferny bosom of the

 Forest, The lost Cause of Our

South, Our South,-- that is-

Our Home.

“To A Cat Ludwig”

What Thinkest thoum oh spotted

Cat?  Thou art too sweet for my

Words.  Until the grey mists

Let off the dusk, until my heart’s

Ice caverns thaw, mon petite chat,

I love Thee……

//I suffer among trees, oh the

Lilies are lovely-they are—

Oh, what lilies?  /Then This:

Summer’s Lilies.  Indeed, this

 summer’s lilies must be altogether

something spectacular.//

THE SCATTERING OF STARS, A Short Story.

1.

//When I was a little girl

The grownups never asked me things like

“What do children know”

They Weren’t

 City-Folk;

City-folk do that

Sort of thing.

No; they didn’t say a wordm

The meandering roads, the highway,

Our shared life force,

The Gas Stations as Beacons

In the night./

The Red Clay, and, the

 Grasses, and bales of hay,

and the peaches,

and the wildflowers,

and the scrubby pine woods

and the mill town in its mill valley

With a river running through it

And the stars, mighty big

sky,

and stars comin on on

crisp winter nights

on clear nights when

the moon was white milk,

--And them stars was blue,

And if you looked hard at one,

A little red.  Oh, and the cows.

2.  Them cows all around

The school and all grazing in the

Vale of the decaying mill, dead now,

Its ghost whistle still roaring

At some haunted shift-change

And there were ghosts

And I guess them ghosts

Was goto work but

goin’ to workin’, cause

They left the lights on in those

Huge windows, and you couldn’t

See a thing but shadows.

And the people who were still

Alive in their

Mill houses

Felt like getting up and goin

To work but

Their bodies were all a-falling apart

Cause half of them had lung

Cancer, owing to all the

Asbestos

From guiding the looms.

Children used to work there, from the

Age of eight or ten,

---Now the children are in school, their

Great-grandchildren,

They in school.

I guess that pretty much sums it up;

But know this, that

Highway never ends,

And I keep wantin to go home, and

That’s what I did, 

I can feel God

In that place.

I wanna be lonely.

I may die an be buried in the

red clay, amd I ain’t

feeling so good myself.

So We all Dying, together,

Something like—

Menstrual blood,

and I just want a baby.///

3. “Silence”

Sing, Choirs of angels!  Sing Allelujahm

A child sleeps in the night, and he wakes

Up and looks out his window all night

Cause there’s something out there big

And real, An he can feel it coming.

An he ten years old, and his sister eight,

An he lonesome as a dove at sea.

An he ain’t dying, no---

But That Living Room, That Cabin, its

Full of beer cans, liquor, smokes,

And playboys.  Nothings to eat but

 canned goods and yams.

And if he’s looking for a bruisin’

his drunk daddy’ll beat the hell out of

his forehead and he’ll taste

blood

 in his mouth, an he’ll feel better

Like He’s just done something for himself,

It’s just Jacob and His Little Sister Agnes, Eight,

Against the world….

Somethin, something real bad out there,

Like

Ghosts---

And Jacob’s gonna figure it out,

This House aint Nothing But Home,

Even though his mama’s in heaven.

It’s warm inside, and theres his father.

Alcoholic.  Life is hard. And he is—

Home.

The Secret: You Know What’s out there in those

Muggy piney woods?

GOD.  God Himself.

God Watching Over this little house in this little town.

Amen.

 The End.

Angel: A Short Story

Once upon a time, on a

Faraway planey, a cry

Was heard the whole

Planet round.

Not that there was much

on the planet; all its

people

being made

of

stone. 

For God, God

Hadn’t breathed the whole

Breath of life into them,

But only made them stone people.

One day,

A Puppy Was Born

In the stone

Wilderness.

At first there was nothing.

Nothing but stone.  Then

There was a cry, and

A little warm newborn puppy

All swaddled in cloth.

She was crying, for she was

New to being alive, having

Just been born from thin stone.

Or Created.

Far Away in the vacuum

Of Space

 an Angel

Named

Gabriel

Was flying with

A divine message,

An everyday message,

Through vacant void.

All around there was

Heavenly light and

warmth and light

to Gabriel—but

only to Gabriel, for he

was an angel.

  To any mortal. It was

a vacuum and a void.

Each time the

Archangel Gabriel Beat His

Magnificent Great

Golden-white Wings,
God sped him on.

And he went a light-year

Each time he beat

his great pounding wings.

He Came To The Swaddling Puppy,

And loved her,

And He Married Her There,

They Lived There And Brought

The Planet To Life, Like

The Garden of Eden

And Genesis.

And They Lived,

 Happily Ever After.

The End.

Snow flows on cherry blossoms

My heart is crying

When will we be alone again?

Snow on your little Boyish

Eyelashes,

Jesus Loves You, Little Chris,

Jesus once said, in the bible

“I fed the three thousand

with the four loaves/

Why Worry Ye What

 thou Shalt Wear or Eat?

Be as the lily-of-the-valley. 

The Lily

Has nothing

At all,--yet even the greatest of men

Are nothing to the least

Of the lilies of the field.”

Amen.

Haikus:

Bitterly I Weep

Under the Shades of the Cherry

Wet Petals fall

Will I see you again

Ku-to Yen, in Ku-to-Yen?

Stones and I die for you.

I died for you, friend

I ate of my heart

I will see you again

In this life

Or the next

Under Green Boughs

The emperor comes to me.

He brings a jar of honey.

We shared Wine

That night my love

I would die for you

In the street

Spring comes

It is nativity

My hearth is where the earth

Is not frozen

The village is our home

Our name is high here

Sun Dynasty

Palace on the Hill

Cold Snow Falls on me

This Day of Christ’s Birth

I want oranges and apple blossom

We will feast this night together

At willolyn we will part

I will take your love

Deep into the satin bedsheets

And you will rain Joy

On your sleeping child

Rain is a God

God is Rain

Rain Is soft

 and Small

no heart is not cleansed

by the gentle rain

“Angels”

No, I don’t believe we could live

Without angels.

Else who would carry us when we

Fall,or how should I walk, or breathe,

Or sing?

How could there be

 Joy On Earth

 Among Men

Without Angels?

Without Gaurdian Angels

For every one of us

We would never make it

I believe this

All you have to do is pray

And endure.

“Have you ever met an angel?”

Have you ever met an angel?

I thought I saw one yesterday when

I was weeping

It helped me to

Cry

 I know that

It was an angel

Because

It was so kind

And compassionate

I talk to angels every day

Here

It only snows once

Or twice a year,

From January to march

---And then he took me

into his arms and we

spun around and around

and I was thin and I could

Run like a deer.  I took him

Into my arms and held him

My leg wasn’t crippled then

And then I threw open my

Arms and took the electric energy

In the air into my palms

And into my heart

I stood there

Breathing in sharply

I was praying for

a rainstorm

the next day

it rained

“The Star-Place Where I am Haunted”

Inside, In that place Where Spirit

Wanders, Dwells, Loves, Wonders, Fears,

In That, that placem that place

That is lonely, that place

That you can’t see without looking

With

The heart;

There is a blue, cold, distant Star,

And It is Alone in Icy Space,

Far through Time and light,

Where life is not,

And I dwell there, cold, shivering,

Forever alone on my Blue Star,

Made of White Stone, not-living,

Only there; and sentient

But not alive,

And there like an old tree

I fish the Lakes

On Ice Caps, I Look From

The Furthest Reaches of the Cliffs,

Into Chasms of Sapphire Water and

Shadow,

Of Deep Slow Solitude,

Alone,

Fishing;

This is where my soul

Resides in these

Warm, Bosomy, Hearthside

Days.

It is the secret Sadness Within Me,

The Secret That Knows Of Time.

That which springs Forth Ancient Wisdom

And is Wise, like God.

I fear it Haunts me,

And as I kiss my husband at a lamplit

Family dinner surrounded by family and friends

I draw my overcoat around me, feel the coffee mug

In my frightened fingers, and glow, warm, safe, alive.

Let it Be.

“On a New Book”

Father, I think, I just realized

That my Star-home Vision

Is the setting of my second novel,

Set on another world, or

A distant star.

It is another world,

Perfect for dreaming.

It is the image I keep

Imagining—

Maybe I will write a book

About it.

“Starlight”

October 12, 2010

A Poem:

“Hearing The Call To Arms”

When To Our Ears It Reaches

The Sound of a Call To War,

We Hear It With The sleepy

Ears of the Peasant who is

Blissful in the liberties

Of the Forest, the Dishes,

And a family, and who

Would Not Have a War

Would Not Leave A Warm

Hearth

For Much Reason,

Scarce

To Take to arms