Said I: Who are you Said she: Who are you
This ought to be two poems, side by side, reflecting one another, but blogger won't allow me to improve its appearance here (grr!).
sweet, joyous stranger? who looks on me
Who stares back at me, here from coolness and water?
a mirror of persuasion? This morning, more than most
Where did you come from? she is her father’s daughter of time and space,
Were you born on light in silver dawn? she is ready now to hear the truth and
She who pushes soft tresses back, take off her face of heaven…for she
with hands like holy, waxen flax is older. The voice in her eyes grows
and dresses here each day, ever colder as she marches with the
with such life-consuming courage soldiers of life. She has known the cuts
and fire of several knives, and she has survived –
that it eats her blushing face? ever still as she was. Ever just
Will you not take your place as wonderful to look at, and ever plagued by
in darkness demon cats, who brought her chains long ago
and bliss and fed her grains of sand. They shattered her
as you belong with those cherry-lips, dreams and plans of fairy-castles;
my devil? And stop, and taught her just one thing -
teasing my escape? she could sing of freedom aloud,
Brush those glorious clouds yet throb with the wounds of battle,
from your nape for the clouds would always
and smile, child – be there
I’d give anything to hide
to be so free. her chafing, iron shackles.