We believe

Use your long words

describe the smell of memory

antiseptic

there in your transparent igloo

born to incubate

smoke before it’s legal on your mother’s habit

bequeath me the tendency

to live without need

from pockets we pull

the nurture the seed

sprouting in defiance

when everything else died of frost bite

against the ire of a late Winter storm

gusting itself into white rage

through the glass you see

yourself being re-made

in the eyes of old women whose wrinkles

make a universal puzzle

and the swell of hills

cast over with violet

a heaven of sorts in setting light

glazing countertops

for foot prints of unseen beast

leading off into nearby copse

could we will ourselves

another go around?

stepping backward into

infancy, chewing the umbilical

surrounded by potential like

a wet firework strains to explode

would it be any different?

your hands, molding my shape

DNA

the type of pasta eaten

over Lake Como the day

of conception

holy was the love that bore the wish

lost in steepled weather vein

glistening against straining light

a mockery of control

just out of reach

there she is

eighty years from now and

just re-born

in unfurled leaves and first sprouting

green a forbidden thing

among the white ushers and

dark flitting ponderable

marveling we can be conscious

of ourselves and of nothing more

than a stream aching to unfreeze

creep closer to living

inch by inch

two warm bodies without a thing between them

aside the shame of knowing

we live both futile and richly

worming our way into the meat

and tender bruise of absolving

those things we believe we need

32 thoughts on “We believe

  1. A truth to your poetry rings inspiration and a touch of hope in our poetic souls.

    Love these lines:

    “through the glass you see

    yourself being re-made

    in the eyes of old women whose wrinkles

    make a universal puzzle

    and the swell of hills

    cast over with violet”

    The pictures I see cast a surreal vivid imagery of us being re-made
    in the eyes of the ancient spiritual woman of strength.
    The universe herself shares her love for us humans to peacefully
    without hate just love. The answer to our balance is love.

    Sis, you’ve nailed this poem. Another one of my favorite poems by you. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

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