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Tracy Delage Poem
Disregarding the familiar closed habits and
Washed into mind by morning’s arrival so quietly, then raging
Questions of this new intoxicating radiance in her garden
Spiraling in this foreign, brilliant white illumination, unfamiliar and exhilarating
Momentarily unconcerned by it
Questions will not be put aside today, cannot be covered, or oppressed
Disregarding the familiar closed habits
Driving her thought, separate from rational reflection
The recollection of the moments when reason, judgment and deliberation were
Left behind for moments of serenity in the brilliance of him, a tourist
Falling into this sway, this swell of movement driven, driving
Exploring the significance of this circumstance and touching it, grapsing it at times
Disregarding the familiar closed habits
Senses recalling the sights, smells and the contact, I let her take pleasure in it
No curtain over it, allowing it to silently overpower her
The moments over time, building into a narrative, quietly, softly
Carefully treading in this, with feet bare, footprints almost unseen on undisturbed soil
Again and again sharing seconds of humanity wrapped in familiarity and fear
Disregarding the familiar closed habits
In time, minutes and hours shared laying in the pools of temporary light he brings
Her tourist helping with comprehension, guiding when asked
Willing to share his own translation, the peaceful philosophy reaching her
Imparting and changing perspective, changing the gardener’s promise
His careful liberating freedoms, tolerating exploration, she welcomes him
Disregarding the familiar closed habits
Let go, uncommon precious beliefs, thoughts, gifts, pristine and unspoiled
Reason becomes need, granting the tourist passage into this glassed-in garden
Feels his breeze, his warmth, the depth of him, his movement, she smiles
There is no other place so reverent, so warm, and kind, built for him
Uncommon, imagining the tourist has never, will never be so adored, so treasured as here
If he knew. She laughs, and then
Regarding the familiar closed habits
Recognizes that gardens are most common, shared with ease and naturally for most
Nothing remarkable of hers but its solitary audience being
Unaware of his own presence there
Copyright © Tracy Delage | Year Posted 2008
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Details |
Tracy Delage Poem
This morning wakes, with a celebration of memory and a playful dance of thought,
Pulling you into my mind, the sense of our presence in my mind’s rooms.
A time from past lives, for both, the sharing of seconds when worlds collapse,
Sharing, judging, evolving, flowing for moments, departing for now.
In my mind, the place that has been carved out for you in this world,
Holds constant, and has within it, such careful plans of magnificence, and has
the scent of you.
Have you cleaned anything out of that memory hall, to make room,
Are the seconds available in your recall, can you taste the charm you passed me?
Had we understood the impermanence of these instants, would we have
purchased a second more?
Were we aware and chose our own pace, our own rhythm, our own measure?
A timeless sense of your humanity caught in this room and adored,
For your passion, your delight, your soul’s love of self.
Understand that each word, phrase and thought,
Has become me. I breathe each one, as if my own air comes from them.
I am more because of your existence and your disclosure,
A warm smiling calm is found in the remembrance of each instant.
This reflection of you I give as a gift.
In thankfulness and adoration for all that you have shared, have given,
Where you allow me to witness and steal, those flashes of your brilliance.
Know this extraordinary sight of you, sits as a spirit in my room, always.
Copyright © Tracy Delage | Year Posted 2008
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