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Allegra Silberstein Poem
There comes a time when each new day
is an unexpected joy -
the yes, of yes I am alive.
My quilt covers against the chill breeze,
holds me for sweet moments
cocooning in my bed
before ring to a morning salutation.
Golden light washes the hillside,
splashes on tomatoes and summer squash,
on greening apples and ripening peach
on blackberries growing along the fence
and sunlight like a lover
has kissed the trees on their green lips -
its yellow body shining there.
Copyright © Allegra Silberstein | Year Posted 2019
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Allegra Silberstein Poem
Sapphic Passage
Flower crystals–– rosemary mindful, suffers
chosen struggle, triangle, silent motion
closing center, vertigo's quiet entrance.
Nuances speak soft.
Open window, fluttering curtain rapture,
silent spiral, miracles easy keeper––
cedar spirit, centuries mindful fragrance,
heart in its passage.
Angels enter willingly. Bending earthward
sing their anthems joyously...follow the song...
yet, I tremble. This is too soon for endings
hold me in this now.
Copyright © Allegra Silberstein | Year Posted 2019
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Allegra Silberstein Poem
So many bright tomorrows have crept by
becoming lost. So many sorrows
to gather in boxes that time borrows
from earth’s storehouses with no reply.
I sense the memories giving ride to you—
the compass of your journey turning north
with white hibiscus blossoms sending forth
spirit-peace that flowers into rescue.
Darkness enters slowly to the garden,
with candlelight we’ll make this evening shine.
Come out with me to share a loaf of bread,
what’s lost we’ll leave to heaven to pardon.
We’ll drink to life and lift a glass of wine––
let be awhile––the prophecies we dread.
Copyright © Allegra Silberstein | Year Posted 2021
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Allegra Silberstein Poem
A Terzanelle for the Rising Moon
Alone in the night sky
out of a nest of clouds
the moon rises to her morning.
Alone in the night garden
I mark her passage
out of the nest of clouds.
Through a fork of dead limbs
holding on in the dying oak
I mark her passage.
Light needles sew fragrance.
The moon waits awhile
holding on in the dying oak.
Pollen threads the air,
weaves orange blossom scent.
The moon waits awhile.
Heady with orange blossom scent
I climb past the dead limb.
Alone in the night sky
the moon rises to her morning.
Copyright © Allegra Silberstein | Year Posted 2021
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Allegra Silberstein Poem
Vision
(Inspired by Iwasaki Eri painting: Blue Bird)
With closed eyes
I see the blue bird
resting on my crown.
Beneath a flowered gown
the hills and valleys of my body,
the red rivers of my blood.
All around me
in their profound silence
the falling leaves.
Copyright © Allegra Silberstein | Year Posted 2020
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