Things I Love

Things I love. 
Birds writing their way 
across the sky.
The baby that discovers 
the diamond in first words.
Mountains standing their ground.
Seas telling their ancient stories.
Things I love.

Honey Infant

Cute honey hued baby
hair in curls
grape clusters
one eye a large star
the other smaller eye
a star veiled
by hazy clouds
symphonies playing
in your innocent soul
until the wars of life
intrude and attempt 
to suffocate the notes. 

1938: Little Black Girl on Walden Street

I like to walk down Walden Street with my grandma.
We all know each other down there.  Walden Street
is poor, shacks sit there like big brown boxes, the dirt
yards, other little children playing in the dirt, the lucky few
with a big rubber ball or a tiny one in hand with old jacks.
We don't know we're poor though.  We're content.
We're all one big family, including the dogs, cats, 
squirrels, and birds.  Grandpa told grandma to stop 
feeding every cat she sees.  She smiles and winks at me 
because she plans to keep right on doing it. Grandma
even feeds the birds sometimes when she is sad.  
She likes to look at them.  I visit my grandparents
on the weekend.  We sit on the porch and spy through
the cracks in the floor the chickens scratching in the dust
under the house.  I love my grandparents, parents,
baby brother with his forever saggy and soggy diaper,
runny nose, every animal and all the people on Walden Street. 

The Lonely Queen

The queen sat alone in the garden gazing
at her goldfish pond, colors playing over
the ripples of the water and her gown,
holding a rose to her cheek.  Tears.
Her lover had finally died. Birds chirped
in the trees. No longer would he walk
and sit in the garden beside her, gaze
at the pond, the goldfish like golden 
moons stirring and sailing beneath
the water. She had planted roses there,
many colors. She wanted all colors 
available, had more created.  Germination.

She had dared to work alongside two 
servants to create this place, wanting
it to be just right.  Roses, palms,
cypresses, breadfruit, lemon trees, 
baobab, lover's arches, beauty, truth.
The day she presented the secret garden
to her lover, she held a lily in her hand,
crown on her head, blue and golden robes.

The roaming lover, a general and commander
of her armies.  It had been a time of peace
though, much trade, luscious talk, 
glorious actions.  He had guarded her borders
well. The belly of the poor was even full.
No one dared frown on them. Wealth
came to her kingdom like a bird of paradise.
Her lover's soul flew away. We Amazons
and scholars never marry, she thought.

Quietly

Quietly
the water flows
to the turquoise sea.

Quietly
my blood flows
in this failing body
dread.

Quietly
the bird tries to fly
to the golden sun
disk.

Quietly 
the love affair ends
lover's backs turned
sad eyes.

Quietly
I sit in my room
eyes on words
poem ends. 

Tide

Love rolls in
like a tide
a quiet tsunami
the drops pearly
translucent 
blue happy.
It ebbs away
leaving us
quiet and dusty.
 
 

Abba Moses the Robber the Black

This is the final installment of my long poem.

XIV

Eight of the monks and I retreat into
the desert. Rumors of a wild band
of Berbers rampaging, spreading
terrors, stealing, slaughtering
innocents.  If they come,
Christ is sufficient, I tell the brothers.
If we are killed, we will enter Heaven.
No fears.
No worries.

One day we saw the cloud of dust,
rumble heard, the thunder of
horse's hooves.  The whirlwind
came out of the hills to our camp.
I told the youngest brother
only seventeen to save himself
and witness on what he sees.

Brothers, I may die here today.
I refuse to defend myself
because as Jesus said,
Those who live by the sword
will die by the sword.
In my past I spilled blood.
I am a changed man.
This is my destiny.

The Berbers, robes and capes 
flying swept into the camp
like demons, swords flashing,
twirling, knives between their teeth.
Moses stood his ground,
opening his arms as if to 
embrace them. The seven brothers
did the same.  A Berber horseman
flew pass, reached down and 
beheaded Moses.  His head flew
and landed in the sand.
His body collapsed on its knees
and fell over.  Jumping off their
horses they stabbed and cut 
the throats of the brothers,
except the the youth.
He had hidden himself.
He wept behind some boulders.
Goodbye Moses.
Goodbye brothers.
He whispered.
Taking the few goods
the Berbers touched the encampment.
The youth watched in sorrow.
Then a great light scrolled
across the sky. Angel's wings 
appeared. They looked like
specks of gold at first, but then
as they floated from the sky,
the young brother could see
seven golden crowns with jewels.
All seven came down into the
destroyed encampment of death,
the signs of a new life.
Each settled on the severed
heads of Abba Moses 
the once robber the black
and the brothers.  The youth
wiped his tears, smiled,
went back to Sketis,
witnessing what he saw.
Never forgetting.
Never again ungrateful.