Archive | March, 2012

The Farm Woman

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Woman of the Earth,
you are loved.
You gather the fruits
of your labors to your bosom
and feed the children.

You’ve inched your way
along the dusty path
with back bent in great fatigue
and cultivated the rows
yielding wise fruit.

You would feed out of your mouth,
those you think hungry
and then beyond measure.
The fruits are the heart
of your labors, the harvest of
your mind’s philosophy,
spilling indiscriminately.

Who is left to feed you, farm woman?
What commissary is left open
to feed your hungry soul after hours?
What bookstall will house the words
between stiff covers
to increase your harvest?

Labor, till the sun
closes its blinds on the day.
Restless legs will
speed you through the night

to find the bins ever full.
9

Like Minds

My thoughts rove the ethers
like a magnet pulling
like thoughts to themselves.
The excitement rumbles
through my belly
while heart accelerates its beat
forcing my blood
to course through my body,
drunkenly.

Heady stuffs
to know that mine is thought
matched by invisible minds.

I swim in conscious waters
resembling earthstone.
Pulsating, yearning,
I find it humbling to think
that heaven's thought

has searched out mine.
4

Midnight Excursion

I saw them,
leaning against the rail
with grey curls circling their faces.
They were in animated conversation.
Their eyes were glued
to the waters, I think.
The wind blew their housedresses
about their knees.
Frowns and furrows
made ridges on their foreheads.
They giggled with laughter.

Not out of the ordinary, you say.
Certainly a commonplace happening.
The hazy sun was evident,
but most of the surroundings, blurred.

I could have stepped
into their conversation.
They would have welcomed me.
But I did not.

It was with a start
that I realized I was the visitor.
The midnight excursion
placed me in their time.
I had broken stride

and found me another world.
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