For Maria Massarella, and all whose beauty and vivacity endures post-major illness


Part I Courage

New dawn trailed the night's loss
my toes dug warmth
beneath my quilts,
but I pushed to emerge
from hideaway sleep's recluse
to face my freshly-emptied world,

began the revolution
to learn again to cherish:
joy of breathing
find miracle in my body's
centered balance
to stand over the aches
and that my limbs responded
to take me forward,
to cherish:

The urge to explore the first curve
in a path still virgin to me
that fingered its way into fantasy,
to cherish:

a small child's hello
his open-wide unchecked interest
hint of daylight upon the sea
first glimpse of ocean
after the evergreen copse.

I shook and smoothed these parcels
to improvise their secrets,
renewed the rub of smooth sea-washed
pebbles underfoot,
fragrance of cedar wed with pine.

Part 2 Progress

I stirred to the sudden visit
of a cardinal at my pond,
the bold red hope of him
painting my heart in
quiet company, no judgment,
and reflected that the moon
sits in the sky at midmorn
as if staking out its reservation,
and that at times
I've seen a rainbow - even
before the rain.

I curved my lips to celebrate
an unfamiliar laughter
in the crowd,
the shy stretch of a new love's hand
toward mine.

I found solace
that a stranger cried for my tears
...feared for my survival
...delighted in my idiosyncrasies

...devoted time to guide me
back to myself again.


Part 3 Promise

Where all of this left hollows
for the strength left to re-start,
I then grew reinforced,
by the fortune in my hunger
for stories yet unread
melodies to be picked out
new words to decipher
languages to pattern
and perennial flowers I'd planted
destined to return next spring.

~~~

05/30/1996