Monday, October 26, 2009


In the front row a man stood up
Sweating, thin, dark –
He held his hands to his chest and looked up -
“Dance into my heart”
Was the silent prayer his body spoke.
A question:
When you danced tonight, did you ask
Whether a soul might come back through you
Or why that soul might choose your feet
To touch a wooden stage once more?

Lithe brown god walked on black earth
Among ancient trees
At his feet the soil upturned,
Making new saplings sprout behind each deep footprint
Young trees that that fast reached up
Bending beyond view,
Scratching the palms of a sky god
Who lowered down a silver arm meet the green leaves.
In this way, the earth and sky met that afternoon
Just before the endless rain began.

Did the last brave ones go?
The boys who ran in these narrow streets
Who shouted to one another about who was king
And who would die?
What if I called out to even to one boy to come home?
Would he come back to see hollow eyed stares through windows
Asking for something though it’s too late to ask.
Sometimes these faces speak
To the small spitefulness of days piled on days unforgiving.
If you could hear their voices they might ask
To be opened up again.

I remember sitting with you once.
You looked past the cliff and the waves
To somewhere beyond where you could feel but not see.
I watched the wind draw your hair
Back from your young, drawn face.
Were you choosing a place where we were meant to go together?
I’m still here.
Can you hear me?
I’m still here.

October 2009