She is like my mother,
perhaps the mother
or the grandmother
of anyone
back bent scratching
the hardened surface
of the back yard
could be your cottage
in Ireland.
or our brick home
behind the church.

If you want
come with me
we will see
Ernestine
pour the tea

We will see
how her sister
Miss Rose
boils the milk
gives the cats
what is theirs
and the rest
will be free
for the tea

But please don’t
come with me
if you are bothered
by fleas

If in wondering joy
like to see
vintage manners
old bibles
true stories of
green elves and sylphs
come with me
to the wondrous
house by the sea
to see sweet
Ernestine
pour the tea
with hard bread
that she serves
in alabaster
cups
on jacaranda
trays
of
jacaranda
trees
just for you
and for me
but don’t say
that the cups
do not match
they are rare
collection
of appreciative
lore
instead feel
the aroma
of jasmine
in the air and be aware
to feel
how you feel

Look around
you will see
picture frames
gold and silver
filled
enlarged photographs
of aunties and uncles
and the Mason brother
who went out
to sea

She will tell you
how a morning
angel
stood right, right here
by the window sill
when time stood
still
don’t look away please
look into her
eyes
limpid innocence
and a child’s
grin

She will tell you
how she went around
giving to the children
loquat fruit to eat
before her landlord
cut down all the trees
we needed the space
to hang out the clothes
outside in the spring
with no criticism
she will pour more tea

If the cups are spotted
or darkened by tea
think of antiquish
patina
and look at the hills
If you hear clear jingles
playing
the saucer and cup
in her trembling hand
don’t look away
listen
how clear the notes
of the china chime

But if you
do behave
she’ll invite you
someday
to come Sunday
to pray
at the corner
small room
overlooking
the train
and you’ll see
all her saints
all her saints

If you don’t
criticize
and you see
what I see
you will marvel
at the house by the sea
she will open
the door
double chain
and key
and will lead you
slowly
up the stairs
to see

how it is
to be ninety-four
frail
and a child
within

Don’t let this day pass by
without the soft cadenza
of your sight,
piercing all the frontiers
the soul stretched
beyond.

Until the sailing sweet
of your skin
encounters now
melting at dawn.

Don’t let the day go by
without the senses trembling,
to multiply the scent
and catch full open
the point of light of being

And let the feelings
flooding lights
floating auras
of horizons
moment of the source.

Not known to thee
in spring time again
don’t let the flowers
don’t let the aroma
don’t let the moment
Don’t.

I was given this morning
a crown of laurels
to place upon my head
for unaccomplishments
some tickets to be spent
on short trips to delightland
and places far away
that’s why, my dear Benjamin,
I will leave you someday
to meet the one who crowned me
to find a place to rest
by his side in a dreamland
to never more return

Oh, dear, dear Benjamin,
I don’t want to complain
I wanted to be with you
holding your hand again
to guide you through the maze
But you have found already
a place to sing and play
a guitar that bewitches
with the song that creates
in myriad odes, tunes, rhymes
that compels you to stay

So, very dear Benjamin,
I will go very slowly
without turning my head
with bags of your smiles
and a drawing you made
two yellow flowers painted
in a hurriedly way

I will plant you a garden
in the country of bliss
with teardrops like maize
helped by brothers and sisters
that will water the place
soon will grow amethysts
blue sapphires and jade

We’ll make believe each morning
is a heavenly play
at each visit you pay
someday your own beloved
will meet you at the shade
of the emerald grapevine
that quenches all the thirst

If someday you grow weary
should you decide to stay
me, who loved you one morning
who lent you flesh and shape
He who waits for eternity
hoping that you awake
at every breath you take
He’ll never grow impatient

He will always stay
deep in that heart of yours
as intelligent bliss
to lighten your smiles
taking you to the place
where no one grows old:
country of children-men.

How did you happen?
How did you become?
bare at the shore
at the shore’s edge?
Playing
sand pebbles
in the water
quivering
teasing glares
flirting shimmering lights
ripples breaking into
laughter
at the shore’s edge

How did you happen?
How did you become
at the shore’s edge?

Two tons sleep
Fell in each eye
When I was writing
To you tonight
The words of love
Gone from my pen
Bend down my neck
Hitting my head
On the foot rest
I took my pillow
And went to bed
Out in a dream
I saw amazed
raining green salsa
green salsa rain
Over a yellow
Cheddar Cheese car
Right on the street
rain made of salsa
car made of cheese
Fell from the sky
Ready to eat

In the skies of faith
where hopes dance and play
I asked
for that point,
the place
where God dwells…

In the cluster of time
an embryo of a moment
gave a step into eternity
and in the eternal
unfathomable heavens
where my father dwells
in the isness of forever
wrapped into the now
In the abode of light
there was
Joy!