Wednesday, September 30, 2009

A Childish Question



When I was young,

And the sun was higher in the sky,


I wanted to see

The Cathedral of Notre Dame


And the

Little gypsy dancer.


I wanted to be

A small white goat wearing a bell;


I wanted to wander

Where my hooves would echo with the remains of saints.


I have always done this--

Mixed the sacred and the profane;


Goats are goats--

Music, to them, is all the same.


So now here I am,

And the sun has gone much lower.


I would still like to meet

That gypsy dancer

Before I meet God.


Do you think

I can get to Paris from here?


And can you tell me

Is there really sanctuary


With God and all His bells

Or in the changing sky of a woman's heart?

________

12 comments:

Pete said...

no reason not to keep the questions and dreams we had as a child
have a lovely day

Ekanthapadhikan said...

Yet another good one from you. But do I notice a repeated mentioning of Gypsies in your poems? Correct me if I'm wrong.

Shadow said...

i have this little round metal ball on a chain around my neck and there's a tiny delicate little bell inside. and this i 'ring' when i need an answer, and when it 'rings' by itself, i look up and see what it wants me to see...

Daryl said...

Yes.

Mama Zen said...

"I would still like to meet
That gypsy dancer
Before I meet God."

That's amazing.

Kay said...

its all about heart, baby, all about heart

Riot Kitty said...

Sweet!

Fireblossom said...

Ekanthapadhikan, you are right, gypsies turn up frequently in my poetry, as do cats (especially grey cats), succubi and magicians.

mac said...

I have found no sanctuary in God.

However, I have experienced a succubus a few times... can't say she's all bad ;-)



I do envy Chloe.

Cloudia said...

Oh Yes.




Aloha, Friend!

Comfort Spiral

Dulce said...

Dear Shay
you can go to Paris see and be that gypsy for a day or two, and get back and go on with your beautiful life!
And we can meet in the way, BTW!
*Smiles* :)

Pouty Lips said...

"So I'm back, to the velvet underground. Back to the floor, that I love. To a room with some lace and paper flowers. Back to the gypsy that I was."

We are all searching.