|
Like in my childhood play,
I stand on the edge of the abyss and shut my eyes
to feel its dangerous and seducing void.
Oh, but I must open my eyes!
I look into the depth and I am in awe.
My eyes recede intimidated and stop at my bare feet,
humble portions of flesh, bone and pulsating blood.
What can they do to you, abyss?
I blush, my body throbs, my eyes drown in rebellious tears.
And suddenly you arise from the deepest in me.
Ah, girl -you say- how I long to see you defeating death,
that cunning god!
What shall you do,
so your eyes will penetrate mountains and entangled forests,
wise at last?
I will speak to you sweetly,
harshly
with compassion,
without rest,
until you see you are a god.
And we will join hands by the hundreds, by the thousands.
to celebrate death's death,
while water of a thousand colors flows
washing away every trace of suffering,
selfishness,
smallness.
Girl
soon we will fly over the abyss,
light,
luminous
reconciled,
awake,
imperishable!
Patricia Rios - Cape Cod, August 2000
|
