Tapestry by D.R. Wagner -
Click to enlarge |
WHERE THE STARS ARE KEPT
(for Tom Kryss)
In a small drawer about eight
Inches wide, two and one half
Inches high and about a foot deep.
The drawer is in a plain-looking
Chest of drawers in a back room.
It has a keyhole and can be locked.
It seldom is, however, as it is opened
With great regularity by anyone
Needing stars. Although the drawer
Is unmarked, it is not hidden in any
Way. Those who need stars can
Obtain them at any time.
Once I pulled the drawer almost
All the way out and just looked
Into it for a long time. The
Stars twinkled and glittered. They seemed To float
in the blackness of the drawer.
It was very quiet in the room. I
Reached into the drawer and touched
Some stars. They were cool then hot,
Slippery feeling. I could hold many
Stars in my hand at one time without
Any effort. This was a long time ago.
THE MILKY WAY
We live in a spiral arm of a spinning
Field of stars, we whirl around, a carnival
Ride,
full of birds, loves, emotions, endless
Varieties of
things unfolding in seasons;
Full of bells and an
endless weaving of hearts.
These connections ride upon our consciousness,
Demanding constant performance from us.
Each of us, most royal and majestic as night,
Vile,
vindictive and spoiled even before we speak;
Sorrow
and joy, the way we sound our name.
We endure all of this, our lips kissing each moment,
Crushed, elated, misunderstood, praised for things
We do as part of ourselves, damned for these same
things.
There is no road, there is no plan. Only love
Survives.
Everything is forgiven, finally.
Understanding limps behind the parade,
Always late, always burdened with qualifications,
Always abandoning every opinion and argument,
Leaving each of us our place only, describing
This
place, the swirling arms, the myriad ways
We twist
ourselves to achieve
This weaving, this carnival of
love.
|
