The Mournful Crow

 

Waterfall, Sierra Madre, Philippines

If you want to find God, you can go by rail

or catch a jeepney, repaired a thousand times

and driven by a madman with a rosary on the mirror.

Tell him you seek the Divine and be certain

that he does not misconstrue your meaning.

You go down General Luna street to the place

where the Moon and Mars both must bow

to the great glittering of the Creator's face.

When you arrive, look for the Indian Laurel tree

where a crow has come down the backbone

of the Sierra Madre to wait here for you.

He knows you have lost much, your child, your home. 

The Sierra Madre crow can offer only baubles,

still-warm bits of pan desal bread, and his wise mein.

He is here, like the church of San Agustin,

as mournful as the Christ, as wounded, as kind.

Go inside, where adobe bricks contain time itself,

and the Spanish artifacts reconcile gold with rust.

There you will find Dibella, Alberoni, majesty and peace.

Outside, the kind crow, the Philippine sky, the laurel trees.

__________

Written for Word Garden Word List--Full Dark, No Stars. When I was 20 or 21, I visited San Agustin Church in Manila. If there is a place in the world that is truly God's House, then San Agustin must surely be it. 

Music: Kate Bush This Woman's Work 

Letter To An Old Love

I have arrived here, no wiser.
I'm sorry, a million times over,
but for what? All and nothing.

I meant well.
I was hopeful.
Weren't you?

Every beginning is a poison tree.
I know this and still I
tend each one as a favored child
and wear the blooms in my hair like an ingenue.
________

For Kerry's 55 Plus at Real Toads. The "plus" is to write with your favorite tearjerker song in mind. Here's mine:

 

Interval

She only knew two things--
mice, and sky.

So, when she was injured and the sky scorned her,
the thought that she must now be a mouse drove her mad.

They had to wrap her. She wanted to kill them,
but had become a lesser even to pigeons; she was all fury and no effect.

Nothing in the sky is sick, but the ground is full of bones and graves.
She became feet without wings, dying of stillness.

Why did they touch without killing?
Didn't they know that, under her feathers, she was meat like anything else?

Days went by. She fought them. She lived. So what?
They brought her food and she tore at it. 

After forever, she stopped hurting.
After forever, they took her outside and the sky was still there.

She took a step, then two. She tried her hurt place.
For her, gravity had always been reversed, and so she raised her shoulders and felt herself fall.
________

Dear Girl

the bowls are stored away--
i couldn't bear to see them empty.

your leash turned up in my purse today
at work and made me cry.

i gave your extra chews and treats--so many of them--
to your adored big human brother, for his babies.

i have cleaned up the blood from your illness
from my floors because seeing it made me question God.

but your toys are still everywhere--your donkey, your raccoon, your lamb--
to remind me of joy; that exotic thing as common as kibble to you, dear girl.
______

for the sunday mini-challenge.

 

Artifice

Tell me I'm beautiful,
and that you could fall in love with me.
I'm a pretty billboard splashed with promises--
be the slant-boards holding me up.

She broke my heart--
I'm a big empty box full of shards.
Don't shake me, just let me be a star that doesn't move--
I do give some light, if you do all the work.

Sir Knight, I admire you truly--
broad shoulders do something to a girl, even me.
I like the careful knot of your tie, your cologne,
your starched shirt, your smile.

I'll make you laugh and feel good,
all without risking anything, because I won't feel more than fondness.
Then, just when you think we really have something,
I'll be gone, caught up by some woman

Like a kite in the wind, and as fragile.
______

For mag # 299. 

 

So Still, My Love

So still, My Love,
but even so,
you seem to me to be in motion.

So still, My Love,
but in the way of a springing-off point
when the runner has passed by.

I will always love you,
and will always be the mother you need,
as long as (whatever it is that is me) exists.

So, still my love,
no matter these passages,
I love you and send my soul in the easy draft behind you,

my constant runner,
my only heart,
my adored and beautiful boy.
______

 

So long, best friend

In the summer of 2003, I brought home a four month old puppy and named him Bosco. He quickly became the reigning star around here for the next eleven years. However, diabetes has robbed him of his sight, and now of the circulation in his back leg. Tomorrow I will go with him to the vet to say goodbye. I am heartbroken, and shall miss him more than I can express. It is awfully hard to let him go.