October 19, 2007 § 2 Comments
More beautiful than the sound of a kiss in air
Is the voice of past…the present must I part?
The grace of Charis, so fair…
Was she to wed Hephaistos whose heart-
Belonged to Aphrodite
In every feast of the gods?
Became a trilogy of my sisters and me
My father Apollo gave us dancer bods.
We radiate with joy
When our fruits are plenty-
I hold the rose of Troy.
My sisters tie myrtle and dice to free
Love circling in cages
Weaving together our clothes…
Fluttering, butter wax pages
Link a sweet union and grows
Out of girly gates built low
Standing over a shadowy hill,
I draw my golden bow.
Head to lead the dance of grace not kill.
Who kills my spirit, my soul?
I bend my head.
Whose life is cruel
Earthly love escapes my bed-
And follows me in dreams
Where my sisters hold hands.
The sound of the world turning seems…
To form every journey of ours in black sands-
The closer that I come to the realization
Of destiny tangled in faces and places…
The more difficult, a natural revelation
Courage taken into the morning of one oasis…
© Sonya Rose