Cultivating the Silence of a Hungarian

Snowstorm….
The first few flakes cascading
As small messages over the garden…

Having shapeshifted out of an Italian sky

From a swirling wind of tumultuous joy
The acidity of America still strong I’m my senses….

Now in this quiet
Of winter

Transformations of sorrow and frozen rain
Passing through the window glass
To sit with me….

Shivadom maheo neh nameho….

On the frozen plains
Of Oklahoma….

28 November 2015
Gabors smoking room

“Creator pity my beloved”

For Jim Harrison

Secret

You found it in a rusted can of earth and worms
In a hollow birch tree along a foggy river…
In the wintered whisky breath of a Chippewa
Walking toward the oblivion of a white city….

In the eyes of a woman sitting in tall grass….

In the half blindness that allowed you to see further
It gave you words forged in motions not used  by common man….

Made of a crows wing it gave you flight
Made of a Bears tooth it gave you a singing in an undiminished voice….

Made of rain it gave you love….

In the windy light snows ….among the rusty dawns of desert
And sorrowed  plains….

The secret….

For Jim Harrison
28 March 2016