all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein

all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein
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Monday, September 18, 2006

which possible light


















away from the center of the terrible heat
i, too, can forget.

instead, i cozy up to the pliant cotton of my couch,
the brocade of a pillow,
the fur of my yellow dog
and meditate on my luck, the good weather,
the mail, the novel i am reading which
eases me to sleep each night.

but then, this:
a swarm of crosses
deep in the heart of the desert -
plain, brutal epiphany
and i am made instantly
three thousand times smaller,
a fraction of a fraction,
a small, burning atom that cannot fathom
how to move, or which possible light
to swim toward.

4 comments:

snowsparkle said...

"...burning atom that cannot fathom how to move, or which possible light to swim toward."

i got chills from these perfect lines!

the whole poem superbly describes the vivid oxymoron that is our life on this planet.

as ever, i stand in awe of your perception and writing.

MB said...

You describe something with which I struggle.

GoGo said...

I couldn't have said it better then the two comments above. I will also add the words brutal epiphany.

Tongue in Cheek Antiques said...

I wonder how a flower can grow in such dryness.
I wonder how I can water this parched ground.
A seed of hope can change the outcome. It is easy to sit in my lush garden, pulling weeds, collecting seeds.
It is a mystery this life thing.
Could I be so brave if the ground under my feet turned dusty and hard?