(then the unwinding…

special words passed along from a dream 

while she went off swimming somewhere)

as the stonecutter approached 

catching me unaware

well before words were spoken:

this trembling, my new passion.

I lay down in the grass prostrate before him

baring my chest to accept his dagger,

but a fierce wind kicked up

sending me rolling down a hill

with each tumble picking up more speed,

till the next moment becoming suspended in air.

no longer could I sense my body

lost somewhere inside a spinning top,

whirling, with no ability to resist even a curious fly.

I'd become a leaf,

a flower,

a discarded seed of fruit.

I had passed on to another side…

and as the three of us stood inside a garden wind,

he repeated:

“she is much more powerful than you now,

and you have seen to that.

I am nothing more than an accidental catalyst.

you have merely died, and any power you possess

comes not from this world,

for your greedy love has made you a casualty"

he continued: 

"to fight back would turn you into a zombie, 

a man who only steals 

life flow from the living.

would you be content to gnaw at her flesh to survive?"

"you must surrender, sit in silence,

confront your true feelings to your own fleeting self 

as your poems abandon you in your solitude."

"a fierce wind blows around you!

        submit!

         accept this death and

          let transformation begin,

 for we are an unmovable force!”

I ran to a room with his words 

frantically seeking a mirror,

but what I found was covered by a white sheet

as done by Hebrews when a loved one passes.

to rid myself of a burning thirst the water I drank tasted like seawater,

and it was clear my friend was long gone.

I was alone, first searching, then frozen without breath.

and I died that night.

would anyone recognize me?

from somewhere: “I will said the magician. It is my pleasure to collect broken souls and pitch them as pennies into a fountain. And yours is a rare one, indeed! It will be a time before you sink, and I shall enjoy the trick, for my time is eternal!”

another voice: “I shall recognize you”, said the astrologer. “I have studied you and have come to learn your heart is more extensive and more vulnerable than most. All that fire, indeed! Your ideals are like slipping cards under the table of life; you have been a fool to think you could continue to survive in this game, for one cannot bluff the dealer, the one who owns the cards!”

I own this life.

And I continue with my work.

The Sister is the Poet

stumbling along her way to be authentic, true to her heart.

And her heart and mine are singly strong.

Luminous, as hearttunes softly sung.

May 17, 1977

Bisbee