ODE TO THE CLOUDS

Only shades of blue
And the lightest touches of gray
Shadow the daisy-white fluff,
Giving an ever-changing texture
Of ultimate softness:
A warm image
Of femininity
Against
The blank, bright, blue
Of the hard,
Flat,
Cold,
Male
Sky
Blended in the shading,
In the image
Of the God who made them,
Like the heat of a welder’s torch
That sears the heart of the body
And ignites the brain
Like the vast horizon
Of an arctic day
As the snow turns blue
And the sky turns white,
A blending integration
Of heart and soul,
Even as he made them
Male and female,
To become one
In His image and likeness,
The pure and simple truth
Of light and life
Which we yearn to find in one another.
What light of gold is this
Which blends in harmony
The white and blue
And hard and soft
And straight and curved,
Like an honest word
That sees both sides
Of time and space
And thoughts and feelings,
A middle ground “twixt” love and hate,
And vengeance and forgiveness

To heal old wounds
That scar the heart
Like poison in the blood,
That sees both sides
Of memories now old
Like a misty vapour
Hanging there,
Like blended, fearful tears
Condensing
In the dryness of the desert sky
Filled with turmoil and tranquility
That seeks peace
In the yellow mist
In the blinding light of infinity,
This spirit which always stays with me,
The loving Father of creation
Since eternity.

Cy, 1987

Ode to a RASPBERRY

The first was a delicious discovery,
So, eagerly I reach
For another late summer raspberry
Alongside the walking path;
Another wild, sweet taste
Of a delicate, moist, read sweetness.
Delicious little raspberry,
You make me salivate.
You know how much I crave you.
Hide not from me still.
Once more, you joy of summer,
One of nature’s free, little thrills.
Oh! gift of our creator,
Let me taste you still.

Cy, 1993?.

O CANADA

How lucky to be born
Where prosperity is the norm.
I wasn’t born in Haiti
Where scarcity is the norm.
I wasn’t born in Somalia
Where militia’s are the norm.
I wasn’t born in Bombay
Where struggling is the norm.
I wasn’t born in China
Where thought repression is the norm.
I wasn’t born in Syria
Where intolerance is the norm.
How lucky to be born
Where freedom’s still the norm.

Cy, Sat., Feb. 21, 2009