Departures

I get lost
Somewhere it seems
In the morning green
And the midnight blue
The blissful ins
And the aching outs
Of the wide eyed me
And the pensive you
The hot and the cold
The yin and the yang
Undispersed in it's origin.... from where it all began

And now without question
A mutter...or a yawn
I'm stunned here in the silence
Was it a game?
I seem to be the pawn
The brute....so cold and calloused
To the damsel in distress
You said "Let me be your hero..."
Now I must possibly... reassess
All of our comings....and our goings
You've lost the gentle art
Of candlelight and conversation
In these matters of the heart.

You like it existential
Never really taking part
We are Ansel's...."Rose and Driftwood......"
My heart's desire is... "state of the art"
As you carefully measure out
The emotionally complex components
But might I ask" Where is your heart?"
You..... engulfed.... in winter white
Standing on the side
And oh....so a la carte'

And me....all technicolor
Rainbows and bluebirds
Dancing in the light
As I try to express
My pleasure in the blend
Though I never acquired a taste..... for all that compromise
We're drifting
And I'm longing for the gentle art
Of candlelight
And conversation
In these matters of the heart.

In Dreams

How will my lover come to me?
Through desert storms
Or on tumultuous seas
From a dark night of the soul
To the arms of his beloved devotee
And his desire's plea?
Tell me....how will my lover come to me?

Will it be a starry night?
With a moon so full of heaven's purest light
With a taste of fog still misted on his lips
Through a gentle golden rain
Or on a Paris street...near Saint Germain
To share our first kiss on the Champs Elyse's
And secure my heart as his "emminent domain"
Tell me....please....how will my lover come to me?

Yet ...if without him I must be
Then my heart will take its leave
And go to the Father...and make my plea to be content
But there is one thing....that needs no query
If this be not the man I marry
I cannot settle for a mere facsimile.
For knowing him...I am not the woman I used to be.

Clifford

"Where do such talents come from? Such musicians as Clifford...and how do we come to deserve such gifts? This sudden generosity.....the unexplainable giving that occurs in the midst of deprivation...for I discovered the moment of Clifford deep in the misery of one of the hardest years of my life. A door opened... and his music...unexpected and unearned by me was...suddenly mine, pure, clear, and free, as water was in my first years..."
Philip Levine
Friend of jazz trumpeter Clifford Brown
who died at the age of twenty six in an auto
accident. Philip Levine is the author of eighteen
volumes of poetry..... a book of essays, and most
recently"the Simple Truth"

"The music in my heart I bore long after it was heard no more...."
Emily Bronte

Island Life

How cruel this ache no bend in the bow
Bereft of tender embrace as I watch you go
And I release
And let it be and you extol your praise of being free
Where lives your bliss?
Do you ever long to kiss?
But I suppose there is no need.
It's island life there is nothing more
And I
Drift back out to sea.

When the fear subsides with careful approach
You deem one blessed reach
With languid gait
Slightly droll you wait
Then turn your gaze back to me.
And I once again will pour out through heaven's door
And decorate your life
With all the colors that you think I do not see.
And even still ration out your well hewn time
In small sustain to me.

And I accept with firm resolve
These standards that remain
Though it be such new terrain
Here in this emotional vein
I know this is not merely by chance
To be destined here
As you draw near
In this extraordinary interpretive dance
Being well sustained..in soul and spirit...from whence I came
Though admitedly, still longing for a little romance.

Now I the muse
Must carefully choose
In this sacred and delicate collaboration
In the springtime thaw I remain enthralled
To be love's instrument in a symphony of such delicate transformation
And through this season of change
New life appears once again
And brings with it a precious revelation
So bend back the bow and let the arrow go
To love's joyful and fruitful destination
As I breathe and live, with so much to give
And revel in God's glorious creation.