Remembrance
She traced her hand
as a child, traced paintings
of dragons and trees, the ways
of fevers and seas, traced
the path of a heart, a pen, a feather
in the measure.
In the beginning
the Spirit -
Traced her faith
to the beginning and lost it,
traced rituals and temples,
traced The Thinker in the rain, smoke
in a solitaire fire, the blue flame
of a blacksmith in Bath.
Over the face of the deep,
and there was light -
Traced shadows
on a highland stone, traced
the name of a woman
to the land of legends and wine,
crimson cord falling, walls
falling, uneasy crowns.
It is not good for man
to be alone.
Traced new paths
for old rivers, traced the red sands
of Uluru, torn riddles
on a bridal hem, lines
to the hidden,
the once-known.
The forgotten.
In the beginning was -
Photo: Study for Penelope, c. 1806. Anicet Charles Gabriel Lemonnier (French, 1743–1824) Credit: lookandlearn.com
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