Mère de la Lumière And The Flight Of The Headless Bird .. Page 1

Mère de la Lumière And The Flight Of The Headless Bird .. Page 1
Bear … 04.11.2015
Held away from the
Awareness and memories
Of modern inhabitants in
Coinciding space were the
Eternal silvery cypress swamps
And mysterious black water,
Shinning as flowing rubies
In sunlight and as
Darker garnets in shadows,
At night coalescing
Into molten obsidian.
There were bottomless
Self cleansing sink holes
Perpetually reflecting
Shimmering moonlight,
And hidden limestone
Cenotes of pure water,
Blue subterranean rivers,
Pristine sandy bottomed
Creeks flowing with
Life and grace and beauty,
And ancient, sweet scented,
Flowering trees, bountiful
With seeds and fruits and nuts.
Here there also lived
A being manifest as
A glowing woman.
Her wondrous home
Was bordered by
Sunsets and beaches
Along glory filled seas.
Endless forests of
Singing Pines held aloft
Orchestras of stars,
Accompanied by soft
Undertone chanting
Of rustling palmettos.
Long lived guardians,
The Hardwoods of Remembrance
Whispered of truth sleeping
Cradled in living branches
While standing sentinel
Through evolving eons.
Mère de la Lumière
Had been born from
A starburst,
As Mother to her own
Grandmother, she was
Her own Mother’s Mother,
Her childhood became
The only repository of
Legend and history.
Magical transposition
Created a portal
To the self-forming
Genetic labyrinth
Of lost experiences
And unknowable memories.
Mère de la Lumière
Was named simultaneously
With her own self birth.
To be continued …


Scents of Madness

Wailing storms
Sing of death
Remembrance swirls
In a gyre of pain
True memory
Evoked though
Colors and song
Of gin of vodka
In toilet tanks
In washing machines
Under the sink
In drawers
Broken crashing
Tureen and plates
Ashtray shards
Mosaic glittering
Mopped by long hair
Scrubbing suburbia
Shattered stars
And glittering Stueben
Sparkling broken
In moonlight
Refracted rainbows
Wild grapes and tears
The scents of madness
Steinway painted
With shame
All music being
Of time once was
Becoming ashes
Quietly disbursed
In hidden swirling
Wakulla whirlpools
Labyrinth dream
Rivers tunneling
Through Florida
Limestone cleansed
Bursting forth
In crystal or tannic
Or artesian
Springs singing
Of rebirth as
The storms above
Wail of the life
That never dies
With lightening
Sparked fires a
Tiny reminder
All can become
Ashes blown in
The heart’s
Wailing storm song
Bear . . 06.30.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014