USA

Going Home

You can never go home
says the poet

I went home. . .


the water
sparkling with light
on the river

was

achingly
beautiful

people emerged
from
places

rooms
homes
spaces

I was older
my vision
though
was clearer

I saw right through
everything
that amazed
and puzzled
and mortified me
before

now

with another look
with my
second sight

I am
sure
of
my
place
in
this
world.

Beauty
and it's opposite
are the same thing.

My mother
strong
and
alone

my sisters
cry
when they see me.


It has been too long
it's always too long
away
from love.

if you will stay there
as my brothers do
you will

never
have
to
leave.

Ravine

While you are waiting there
in my horizon

above the ravine
where I am climbing back

no longer standing
grasping clumps of grass

beginning to climb. . .
because on a sun-soaked day

the grasp relaxes
and it's agreeable to stay

waiting for you

I am lifted
we fly

across the land
through the air
to the house

with the incredible
light

artist's light

streaming in
everywhere

impeccable light
you leave
for awhile

I explore
and contemplate

taste the bitter lead
of the drawing pencils

choose a room
of silent music

a steady stream
of light and music

a pulse
a hum

in a soul's breath
you return
unencumbered

all you had

you left behind
here with me

but I was not educated
in the use
of these tools

and so I have waited
for you to return

to claim them.

The Heart

It's funny, strange,
how your mind betrays you

your memory
your body

but when your heart
can't answer anymore

you'll know
you haven't got long

to get it right
to move along

to pick it up
speed away

no matter the ache
or foolishness

it has got to stay

tick-tock
beat-beat-beat

in the sun
by the shore

your smile is amazing
your love

carries on and on
in a black dress

satin promises
still shine bright

the rhythms
of adjustment

percussion
movements

dot the living
land

dot
dot
dot

beat
beat
beat

that's the only way
I know you.

© All Copyright, Mary Rollins.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.