foto

<strong> you stand in Sun

 swathed in clear clandestine Mind cloth .... 

rogue rusted keys 

bewitch

gnarled-fingered hinges: 

"Open" </strong>

Caverns: These are further fragments from a Play-lette which has been in progress (haunting me, so to speak) for several years

a LifeTime in a Moment:Borne of a blaze,
we awakened,
each of us prisoners
inside
globefulls of fire, Earth, Air, Sky, 
all Space
******************************************************
 we're tossed 'round the canyon;
our raven hair flies everywhere,
but it anchors us to the Earth 
(I sleep? I wake?)
'twas a cyclone-like-Dream in a Moment replete...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Leaves caught, blown brittling, o'er our Windy Raven's hair,
then
it stops -

our eyes interlock, love a Life in a Moment
We are thrown to The Mountain's arms, reBorn)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ancient goddesses round a chasm;
the Mothers know all, and their Songs, full-concerto,
"I will be with you,
be with you .... be with you, little girl."
Always, Mamá? pa' Siempre?*
Where might you have flown, Mamá
when Lightning sliced open the Firey tormented Sky?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May I count upon you Sister
in Dawn's fragmented colours?
Now the Mothers have - disappeared? 
       (No! No, hermanita** ! No! I can't believe - I know they are with us
still ....
still, in this broken Dawn,
this preternatural stillness of it all ....

the Prism has been tossed beneath The Mountain - listen- sshhh ....

May I call you "Sister?"
Hold my hand as we hide in this ancient Mountain dwelling
'neath the rocky eaves of yore, I may need
Momentary lies.
After the torrential Rains, the torment blown open our hiding place,
please tell me Breathe-worthy lies, dear sister -
I share your Mind's elasticity (you know that)
soothe me with your wisdom
as I refused to listen (you witnessed)

We'll shelter here in this primitive Home.
When Dawn has finished breaking,
hand in hand, down the Mountain, we'll clamber ;
We  were Borne to piece together
The Great Prisms' colours.
Close your eyes, sweet strong one,
of colt-like legs (remember the horses?),
of doe-Dreamy eyes,
and rare diamondine Water, Mothers' Gifts from the Skies.
We are the originals, the morphing invisible saviours,
Please remind me, sister mine.
Remember the mothers, their stories,
their huge eyes of chocolate and gold -
I can see them - I know you can, too.
Come now, sister,

*pa' siempre = Spanish = "for always" (contracted "pa" = "para" )

**hermanita = affectionate Spanish for "little sister"

      Si, queridas amigas mias, estoy pensando en ustedes. Las llevo en mi corazon siempre. Es un misterio hermoso de la vida mia. Las quiero mucho. pero mucho. De veras, aunque piensen que yo soy una loca, creo que nos conocimos en otra vida .... Las extrano y las mando fuerte abrazos y flores las mas bonita que crezcan. Pero ustedes son mas bonitas que las flores ....

     Que sepan, amigas: esta es una obra de ficcion ,... de pura fantasia. Pero ustedes, y sus familias me regalaron la oportunidad de ver el sitio mas hermoso del mundo. Creo que estaba yo viendo y recordando su tierra, y eso me inspiro tanto que me entro la mente cuando escribi esta obra, y la que me vino primeramente - pueden leer el link abajao de estas palabras.) Yo se que ustedes no son hijas de las aztecas .... su cultura es mas pura, aun mas fuerte, mas hermosa  .... Espero que siempre siga   su cultura, tambien su idioma Otomi .... Gracias por ser mis amigas .... tambien mis amigos. Los quiero muchote ustedes. Siempre tienen parrte de mi corazon.

Please Click here to read a chapter from another Era

For my Nina (lines composed early October, 2016)

To all who celebrate:

 We wish you a 5777 full of sweetness, good health, Joy & Love.

Below: My grandmother with me a few years back.

Please click here, *or beneath the Writing, to read a brief, related Poem, about childhood, Mystery, and Magic

 
     I am her first grandchild. As a child, I was unable to say "Nana,". Instead, I called her "Nina." The name stuck like honey, and her other grandchildren and her many great-grandchildren called her "Nina". Even her own children came to refer to her as "Nina" after awhile. Sometimes, we shortened her nickname to "Neen." My beloved Grandpa, Leo, had a license plate custom-made for her: "Neen". 

     My Heart broke like never before, that grey Spring Evening in 2009 when we laid her emaciated physical body to rest.Months later, at her unveiling, despite my steady stream of grief , somebody, probably my mother and my uncle, or perhaps my cousins, had had "Neen" engraved, along with her given names, upon her tombstone.

      At the age of 97, Nina remained aware of  world-wide current events; she was more computer-literate than I; she had been working on a huge genealogy project which spanned Centuries. (She completed much of her project, via the Internet and via handwritten letters in at  least three languages, before the inception of ancestors . com.) Even after she suffered a disabling stroke, for several weeks, Nina continued in her awareness of all that went on around her. I actually thought she would recover, because my Neen could do anything. As an adult, I held onto my belief that she was immune, somehow, even to mortality. One of the last things Neen wrote before she journeyed to join her husband, my equally missed and beloved grandfather, Leo, her parents, siblings, and ancestors: a brief note to send love to my husband, who was working during my visit, upon a too-silent May afternoon.  She could no longer speak much then, but she wanted us to know she was still capable of Writing; that she had retained the Spanish she'd learned at NYU as a young woman, and that she had fully accepted Robin, who was of a different faith.
Nina wrote: "mi amor a Robin". She had retained the Spanish she'd studied at NYU back around 1930.

     My Nina's passing has continued to be miraculous. Since 2009, she has appeared to us in various ways. She has spoken to me through several Dreams, as well as by actions. On my birthday, a couple of months after she passed, I was alone, cooking spaghetti in the kitchen, when she dropped the previous year's birthday card on my head . I keep no greeting cards anywhere near the kitchen. This particular card featured a SunFlower, which she knew to be my favourite, accompanied with a message she knew I would understand: She wanted me to focus upon Life's Joys, rather than to dwell upon our sadder Moments. My husband witnessed the birthday card incident, as well as the crystalline marble we discovered, a few days ago, upon a stressful Autumn afternoon; the large marble appeared out of nowhere. Its colour is reminiscent of the beautiful hazel eyes she'd had .... I have come to understand that both she and my grandfather have never really left me.

     Recently, we moved to a new town. As I walked in late afternoon's Summer Sun toward the house, hours before the first Night we would sleep in our new abode, I noticed a piece of ivory-coloured paper slightly a'flutter in a soft late Summer breeze. I thought I had dropped one of my son's school papers. My arms full of a box of books, I crouched to retrieve the paper, which had begun to take on the appearance of a mischievous little feather, waving at me, a winsome grin upon its face. To my utter shock, upon the top step of our new abode, lay, a'flutter, a copy of my Grandpa Leo's United States naturalization paper! He smiled up at me, a handsome, dark-complexioned man of thirty-one. I do not recall ever having possessed this paper. Tears of Joy welling in my eyes, I ran to Robin, telling him that  Grandpa Leo had welcomed us into our new home. I saw, or more like felt, the presence of my maternal grandparents. They had blessed our new living quarters.

    I am not religiously observant, but I feel connected in ways of the Spirit. I honour my gandparents and all who preceded them, for they are each a part of who I am; their genes course through my blood. The love I feel for them shall never fade. They keep constant vigil over their children, their grandchildren. I am not at liberty now to tell their stories, but my grandmother has appeared to help other members of my family, even in clearer, more tangible ways. I view nothing as strange; I am connected and I don't believe we ever truly die. I imagine many other people, or, perhaps all of us, feel this sensation: we are directly wired to our ancestors, our beloveds who have seemingly left this world.

     I have come to understand Judaism as a rich, tapestried culture, in addition to its status of 'religion'. Despite the fact that I do not really follow religious teachings, I know, I physically *feel* my Soul's interwoven strands; I am an integral, interwoven segment of a brightly coloured, musical, magical Soul tapestry composed of all the Souls who have come before me. I am a square in the quilt my Nina painstakingly pieced together for me of the clothing I wore as a child. (I lie upon this artistic masterpiece as I type these words .... )

    I wish *everyone,* all my brothers and sisters around our shared tiny world, beautiful days, balmy evenings, but most importantly, despite our countless varied origins and ethnicities, I wish you sweetness, good health, Joy & Love.

     CherylFaith, in constant Awe

I love you, my Neen. 
     With gratitude, with never-ending love, your first grand-daughter, CherylFaith

                    a brief, related Poem