Sunday, May 4, 2008

FOR AMY, CHRISTMAS 1975

Amy, light from the source shines over my right shoulder.

My face is in the shadow.

I hunt the darkness for a mirror

When I look into it, what will I see?

A face in the shadow lit up by light from the source?

Light from the source?

Or just a shadow?

I remembered your birthday

But gave you no occasion to see

That I rejoice in your journey through the days.

The river whispers over the stones that sleep

In it's path across the land.

When the fire goes out gray ashes remain.

They are clean and they require no explanation

Now sitting on a low wicker chair,

The light all before and around me,

I look toward the horizon's radiance:

The effulgent glory of father and mother,

The passion and pain of the eternal brother,

Caroline, sister of the hearth, whose dark eyes

Peer into the red wine of a full golden cup.

And Amy, whose eyes in the cradle saw beyond the grave,

Does clench and unclench her fists sifting and resifting

The substance of the abyss: the rainbow whose arc

Inscribes the imagination with the possibility

Of each succeeding breath.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Nice to see such reverence for your kin. Beautifully written.

Tom Street says hello from Allenspark. I am, in fact, your other brother who misses you.