Desert heart

A prickly heart
beats inside a chest.
Thump thump thump,
the thrum of blood
coursing through veins,
like a river swollen with melting snow.

How sharp that heart appears,
pointed, angry, dangerous.
How dry and desiccated,
like something that might turn to dust
if you touched it, if you could touch it.

For the brave who might reach out,
even tentatively, with a gloved hand,
delicately probing the sharpened points.
Like tiny knives poised to cut
the one that comes close, they wait.

Tender fingers push them aside.
Gently, lovingly pressing into the flesh,
finding a moist treasure, supple within.
A hiding place for love,
encased by thorns,
freed by human hands and a heart.

 

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Into thin air

On the Feast of All Hallows Eve
the air around us changes,
making the space between
this world and the next
so very thin.

On the Feast of All Saints
the air around us glistens,
making the space between
this world and the next
so very rich.

On the Feast of All Souls
the air around us shimmers,
making the space between
this world and the next
a luminescent reality.

On the Feasts of these days
the air around us is clear,
making the space between
this world and the next
invisible.

©Fran Rossi Szpylczyn

Poetry day

It is a poetry day. I’m home under the weather. Two poems crossed my path today, so I share them with you as I have no words of my own today.

What We Need

The Emperor,
his bullies
and henchmen
terrorize the world
every day,

which is why
every day

we need

a little poem
of kindness,

a small song
of peace

a brief moment
of joy.
–David Budbill

If You Could

I know, I know
If you could go back you
would walk with Jesus
You would march with King
Maybe assassinate Hitler
At least hide Jews in your basement
It would all be clear to you
But people then, just like you
were baffled, had bills
to pay and children they didn’t
understand and they too
were so desperate for normalcy
they made anything normal
Even turning everything inside out
Even killing, and killing, and it’s easy
for turning the other cheek
to be looking the other way, for walking
to be talking, and they hid
in their houses
and watched it on television, when they had television,
and wrung their hands
or didn’t, and your hands
are just like theirs. Lined, permeable,
small, and you
would follow Caesar, and quote McCarthy, and Hoover, and you would want
to make Germany great again
Because you are afraid, and your
parents are sick, and your
job pays shit and where’s your
dignity? Just a little dignity and those kids sitting down in the highway,
and chaining themselves to
buildings, what’s their fucking problem? And that kid
That’s King. And this is Selma. And Berlin. And Jerusalem. And now
is when they need you to be brave.
Now
is when we need you to go back
and forget everything you know
and give up the things you’re chained to
and make it look so easy in your
grandkids’ history books (they should still have them, kinehora)
Now
is when it will all be clear to them.
–Danny Bryk

Poems, pilgrimage, perspective

Last Saturday, after walking past a sign with a vaguely dystopian message, my Camino Santiago partner and friend, Sue and I entered the forest. The first part of our journey was a bit more arduous than either of us had imagined.  It grew clear to me that the sign was more descriptive than vague! Where were we and what had we gotten ourselves into in the name of camino preparation, or as we cool kids of the internet like to say, #caminoprep.

The hike offered great perspective on many things, but a few stand out in stark detail. One being that it seemed like the world’s end due to the steep, sharp, gravity defying trails that we traversed, clad as we were in our camino gear, complete with heavy packs on our back. My imagination, which runs like a super high definition camera when pondering possible fates, usually terrifying ones, was on overdrive as I imagined my short, stout body tipping backwards and rolling down the rocky trail to an early end. Obviously I am alive, but on Saturday I was not sure I would remain so!

Despite choosing a #caminoprep run that was way beyond our technical hiking skill, Sue and I ended up loving so much of what we saw at Worlds End State Park.