Fire

I am searching
for
a fire in my heart

I know it’s there
But
I can’t see it

A smoldering heat
to
stir it up

I want to burn
with
creative desire

An illumination of the spirit

Spiritual clutter

Can I donate my spiritual clutter
and get a tax break?
Is there a shelf at the Goodwill
for discarded ideas?
Is there a velvet display case
with a key?

Can I give it away to the sky
on a windy day?
Can I bury it in the garden
under the tomatoes?
Will next year’s crop be blood red,
the color of my distress?

Can I change by simply
willing it?
Can the universe make room
for a new me?
But how can I
let go…

Poolside reflections

A home movie clicks
Color and silence

My mom holds me up
as I kick around

Dark braids pinned
to the top of my head

Dad films
Laughter and splashing

I see a sunny day
But only on the wall

I can’t remember this

The faded film
remembers for me

-Luna

A love story

When the solar winds cease to blow
I will be there
For you

When the rings of Saturn absorb into itself
My love will transcend time and space
For you

As the universe expands
So does my love
For you

When no one remembers our name
The angels in the hall of records
Will yearn for our love

When we are nothing but star stuff
My essence will know you
And love you all over again

A Myth of Devotion

by Louise Gluck

When Hades decided he loved this girl
he built for her a duplicate of earth,
everything the same, down to the meadow,
but with a bed added.

Everything the same, including sunlight,
because it would be hard on a young girl
to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness

Gradually, he thought, he’d introduce the night,
first as the shadows of fluttering leaves.
Then moon, then stars. Then no moon, no stars.
Let Persephone get used to it slowly.
In the end, he thought, she’d find it comforting.

A replica of earth
except there was love here.
Doesn’t everyone want love?

He waited many years,
building a world, watching
Persephone in the meadow.
Persephone, a smeller, a taster.
If you have one appetite, he thought,
you have them all.

Doesn’t everyone want to feel in the night
the beloved body, compass, polestar,
to hear the quiet breathing that says
I am alive, that means also
you are alive, because you hear me,
you are here with me. And when one turns,
the other turns–

That’s what he felt, the lord of darkness,
looking at the world he had
constructed for Persephone. It never crossed his mind
that there’d be no more smelling here,
certainly no more eating.

Guilt? Terror? The fear of love?
These things he couldn’t imagine;
no lover ever imagines them.

He dreams, he wonders what to call this place.
First he thinks: The New Hell. Then: The Garden.
In the end, he decides to name it
Persephone’s Girlhood.

A soft light rising above the level meadow,
behind the bed. He takes her in his arms.
He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you

but he thinks
this is a lie, so he says in the end
you’re dead, nothing can hurt you
which seems to him
a more promising beginning, more true.