Page 11 - Contrast1993Fall

my leg caressing yours, moving close
then far apart until the dawn arrives'
pushing me out of bed and forcing you
under deeper cover.

Day Four:

Silent meditation in the still of early morning;
The soul of Sarah summons her, chanting to her beloved:
Come to the dance. Up! On your feet!
~he field is wide and green. We'll walk there together
III tell you of Shakti. Come! My sacred sister come!
And on Day Four she was created Atman

Escape

Bonnie Miranda

At the stretch of April's end he knocked on my bedroom door
and stepped quietly into my soul carrying his paper good-byes.
I tO~k the parchment pages into my hands and caressed their
~raYIngedges, noting the pale blue calligraphy covering them
In a storm of shapes.

I could imagine him huddled over his work by candlelight,
Swaying slightly to the deep scent of patchouli incense. He
W?uld have been listening to Mozart's concerto at full volume,
WIth one hand curled tightly around a Flare pen and the other
restlessly keeping time to the rising and falling of notes.

I glanced down at his blue words again and found them only
an afterthought; it was the dark passages he must have trav-
elled to reach them that made the difference. Looking defeat
flatly in the eye of his feline smile, I tried to speak, but somehow
the music held my stare and the words refused to fall.

In that one immortal second he had become my finest lover
and my most feared and distant god. Finding in my face the
unmistakable separation of selves, he turned his back to leave.
~s the door drew shut, the only perceivable presence was the
VIolent taste of sound, driving past me like soft, quick tigers.

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