The Legacy 1974-75

Somewhere there is a field for me and my Beloved

There are many strange rumors of despair in the land
Yet many of us preserve our hope
And dream always of returning to the Land
And to Thee

Many advise that life lies
Within four walls,
Confined to desk or counter or bench or cot
I run to the cornfields
To the ravines
Where the rivers pour life down the mountains
Between great mossy slabs of stone
Where the sun trickles down through the saplings
And dapples the fern floor
Where the pines sway
And send their subtle voices rushing through the forest.

A different creature we are
We who linger over the land
Different than those who attach themselves
With painstaking care
To their own made symbols of success

I am alien there...
Bred and raised a captive in that Metropolis
Little by little, the legacy has crept back into my soul.
Soon it will be revealed, and I shall regain my ancient birthright
I will husband the Land

And Thou
Thou wilt husband me.

Lamb 1974

This new thing will not leave me still
I feel it in the pit of my stomach
Where it hovers
And from inside out I feel like a tree must when its leaves are aquiver

Today as we ate lunch,
We laughed, astonished and delighted
As the leaves spilled from the trees

I felt all those trees, being so stirred that with a great breath
They let go
And their light bright leaves, like the shining angels
From the fingertips and forehead of God
Speed earthward to mingle and mulch the roots.

These roots that hold the rocks and waterways of the forest
They run through me as I climb bareheaded and bare foot
Through the ravines and cathedrals of the light nourishers
Roots and trunks, holding forest beds to rustling leaves,
Holding bone and blood to breath
Just as we are held, feelings and fiber,
To the breast of the earth
In the prayers of God

Lamb I am reminded of this
You are the Earth’s cradle
And the fire love sent from Heaven

Beauty 1974

Beauty has a head, and many children.

“Ravish the ravishing body!”  cries the world
“Look upon it, because it cannot look back!”

But Beauty has a head, and Beauty sees you
When you look on her body.

Who makes love to a head? they laugh

Beauty’s eyes are waiting for thine ...

How cruel, when you accuse the flesh
And have not searched the eyes
How cruel, to take the flesh
And consider not the head.

Who makes love to a statue?

It may seem that by turning the head
One may avoid entanglement
And merely enjoy the flesh
But flesh wounds and leaves its scars
It’s memories and repercussions
Freedom lies in the head
Be not ignorant of Beauty’s blessing
See, here is Beauty’s head

Waiting for the Locksmith 1974

Somewhere along I tripped
And something jammed inside of me
And it is only with the most careful picking
That I can jimmy it open
There is a key
But I have forgotten where.

I am waiting for the time when all which is jammed in me
Will be released, and I will flow
Instead of trickling, or gushing, or running dry
And instead of relentless quarrel and innumerable setback,
There will be harmony and steady progress.

This time can’t be too far off
At least, I know I will see it,
Because I repented
And day by day, the miracle unfolds
Like flowers
Like corn

Someday, you will bless me,
And my life will know thee in all aspects.

Walking the Shore ca 1973

Wherever you are, I must find you.
Life by itself is too lonely
Where you live, there I must be
Someday, establish my home.

I am a daughter of Galilee
And my passions are not understood by the merchants
But by the fishers of men
And the walkers on the waters.

Call me blessed.

I denied you, and yet you loved me
I denied you until my soul cried out in anguish
And it cried out for you.

Thunderhead 1973 -1982

              


Do you know, I have this condition
Teasing makes me cry.

Yesterday, I was so tired, and the boys started in on me
And pretty soon I was biting my tongue.

I know I should know
But I just don’t until after it hurts.

So crying is just one of those things I count on
Basic to my existance, like eating or dreaming
It builds up and then suddenly
I’m crying

No one reason, just crying.

You know how it is?
You say
Just leave me the hell alone!
But really
It’s “don’t go..”

Don’t leave me
Don’t just stand there and watch me cry
                   

Earthwatch

         
It is winter, and I bear a dead world.

My courts are well-worn
And of all the souls there passing
Few suffer
That ones dies
To give so much.

My Sovereign has sent such a one unto them
As a spirit disguised.

Many have sought to subdue me
It is the command
But you, my Sovereign, have quelled any enmity between us
You have given me water
And I have given you corn.

Your eye has always been upon me
As mine will ever be upon thee.

He said, “Beloved..”
One voice like many rivers

I am your paths
Your pastures
Your bread
The stars that watch you through the night
I am thy grave
And I am thine ark.