Kundalini Splendor

Kundalini Splendor <$BlogRSDURL$>

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Those Moments (poem by Dorothy) 

Those Moments

Well, I remember those moments,
even if no one else does.
Unless the absent ones continue
to dream beneath the grass,
or even the ones whose names
are washed away on the tombstones
and no one is sure exactly
in which part of the cemetery
to find them.

I remember the time
we went up
all together
into the mountains
and built our fires
on private land
and Howard and Wayne
and John hauled
massive logs
and built a fire
with sparks so
so wild they touched
the sky,
so hot
that they split the stones
of the ringed circle
where they lay.

And I remember how it was
that time I came to your door
bearing a poem,
but lacked the courage
to knock,
even though I had seen you there
in front of your class
and I had to step back
from the  energies
that swirled from where you stood as
you explained "Sailing to Byzantium"
to your oblivious students.

And I remember that time
that you and I went up high
it was fall
and the flaming leaves burned their way
into our sight
and we lay down
on the green carpet below
amidst the red berries
and took
one another's picture
as if we were models
from a pre-Raphaelite

and also the time
a different you
and I ordered the Brandenburg
Concertos and listened with delight
to those staccato tones
one Sunday morning
over coffee and scrambled eggs.

And then there was that other time
with yet another you
and you had brought over
some Mary Jane
as we called it then
and we smoked it
(though I was a novice
and almost never did it again)
and as we passed the cigarette
back and forth
I felt an electric current
shoot up my arm.

And when you returned
from your journey
and it was a hello kiss
with energies that flew
between us
like Ingrid
and Bogie
in Casablanca.

And that spring night in the
parking lot
when we never even got out of the car
while the yearly sunrise Easter pageant
took place somewhere above
among the rocks
to enthrall the
and there was thunder, rain, and
lightning all around––
Lear on the moor––
and we created our own small drama
there within our snug home
 and played out our parts
in a different kind of passion play.

And of course,
the moment that turned
my life around forever,
the moment that still goes on,
and You are the one that
no one has ever seen,
yet You come.

I wonder who was I then...

Who am I now?

Dorothy Walters
April 10, 2015

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?