Sunday, June 22, 2008
I wave my pen like a wand
and cast a spell to conjure images
of the past: the silk of your skin
I had touched a thousand times,
the impish smile in your eyes,
your firm thighs. Athame in hand,
I slash the veils of illusion
one by one, and stab my devoted
heart with the dagger of art.
I let the blood spill like music,
tears flowing like the solemn lyrics
of a dirge. I let everything go.
I remove my robes and remember
that the path to wholeness
is not in safety but in vulnerability.
Star-clad, I offer my wounds
to the universe, faith transforming
pain into poetry, suffering into song.
-Ralph Semino Galan