Creative Experiments and More

I found a truth today,

hiding in a pool of yellow sunlight,

where a red leaf curled

and in the tree above, a robin sang.

I found a truth today,

racing in the stream

with the yellow poplar leaves,

where lords and ladies unfurl their new green banners,

for beneath the rustling brown carpet

life is stirring.

I found a truth today

that explains the emptiness,

the mist that hangs on every bough,

in every longed-for sight and song.

Happiness is the two wings of a bird,

the hand that holds, the hand that is held,

it is the giving and the given,

the walking in step.

The truth I found—

happiness is not,

unless it is shared.

When I was four feet tall
I believed I was immortal;

that knives
could not scar me

oceans
not drown me

mistakes
not taint me

evil
not weaken me

age
not change me

pain
not
break me

and that strength
would never fail me.

I was confident I would shape
a sensational destiny.

Yet I am mortal after all.
No ogres quake at the sight of my face,
no lame man walked.
no blind man saw.
no orphans were fed,
peace was not restored.
I was somewhere else,
someone less;
not the giant
of my idle fantasy,
only a wind-blown flake, adept
at making a mess.

I do not scream
or beat my breast
yet I bleed.

Ignominiously,
I bleed.

I scrub at the seepage
but it will not come clean,
leaving an indelible stain
for posterity.

In recompense,
the forgiving flowers of my womb
grow over my stain,
creating…