Mary Rollins
USA

For Ingmar Bergman

There is a light
and
dispensing with this light
it is made brighter still

and in denying this beauty
it's  made  even 
more beautiful

the cool craggy crevices
of rocks
where insects linger
why would I know
why they want to live

I am only telling you
what I see 
destroying one creation
to build another

and within this 
fragile fragment
wholeness appears

and didn't you see me there
beside you
even as some 
finger 
poked a hole 
in time

and left us resting
after our hard work
and left us resting
as we prepared 
to do more.

For this while
air was the source 
of our survival
and it was the same
all around

every creature alive
needed at least
that

and that beyond air
every imaginable thing
every unimaginable thing
is beyond describing

how will I begin to tell 
about the light that seeps
into the holes 
of the fabric of flesh

and back out again
more brilliantly than
its conception

flying beyond this very air
needed to survive
past survival 
and into the arms of God

in order to
begin again.

Your Hand

Give me your hand
as there is no other
like yours

and I wait
as patient 
as a flower
without movement
of my own

until 
your hand 
rests in mine

and 
what is the meaning of this
I try
to wonder

and can't
because 
the truth of a moment
like this moment

rains
and 
encompasses.

Copyright, Mary Rollins.
All rights reserved by author.