Whence the Wheels of Our Desire

POETRY FORMAT, 13 November 2017

Emanuel E Garcia – TRANSCEND Media Service

Tufted, shades of a healing bruise,
Now they, desultory, scatter,
Distance an imagined cleft from where we lie,
Our cold moist furrow, this our earth,
Our earthly flesh without the beat of time –
So do the scents spill through the skyward eye

That’s when – was it you who turned? –
Perhaps the ancient rivulets are parched,
Whichever way we go a pedantry

But you must have remembered that evening,
The dilapidated theatre, percussive rain,
Somehow the actress leaned into our breath
As she gestured, a letter torn, a forgotten candle
Blazing its hue across her cheek,
Her slipping long away upstage

The wet curb under the lamp   seemed gold
That night as we stepped into a lesser dark:
We wondered how she mused,
Did she drink herself to death each day
Before the sacrifice, or did she hunt
Along the streets, an unseen quiver full
That begged for a stronger hand

So many years or days, cobbled sighs,
All the rising, spinning up, to this,
Our brimful gash:
No seeing but in memory,
No sense but joined,
No whispering except in dance
________________________________________________

Dr. Emanuel E. Garcia is a member of the TRANSCEND Network for Peace, Development and Environment, an American poet, novelist and physician who now resides in New Zealand. He may be contacted at emanuelegarcia@gmail.com.

 

This article originally appeared on Transcend Media Service (TMS) on 13 November 2017.

Anticopyright: Editorials and articles originated on TMS may be freely reprinted, disseminated, translated and used as background material, provided an acknowledgement and link to the source, TMS: Whence the Wheels of Our Desire, is included. Thank you.

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