"Between The Rapture And The Rose" (poem draft)
Between the Rapture And The Rose
Who can believe
between the rapture
and the rose? The road
winds through the brambles,
caramel and sudden, thrushed
and carbon, between the tweeting
and the caverns, between the ash
and the healing waves of rain.
Who can believe? Between
the rapture and the rose,
between the window and the summer
sun, between a child's winnowed
smile and the fallen leaves,
who can believe in the simple
science of you, your turning gyre?
Who does believe
threading their way through folly
and the falling? It's as easy
as the way rainbows slide
their magic, the way I am
into you, the startled starlings
settling home, the flush of bloom,
a filling room. Between the rapture
and the rose is a garden
and a blush.
The softening touch, so much
the sibilant rush, a sensuous
lush response. Something
like belief, like the rapt
heavenly way the earth smells:
the loam of loving you, the pebbled
path of pardon, leafing, like music
between the rapture and the rose.
Lorna Dee Cervantes
5-21-11
Who can believe
between the rapture
and the rose? The road
winds through the brambles,
caramel and sudden, thrushed
and carbon, between the tweeting
and the caverns, between the ash
and the healing waves of rain.
Who can believe? Between
the rapture and the rose,
between the window and the summer
sun, between a child's winnowed
smile and the fallen leaves,
who can believe in the simple
science of you, your turning gyre?
Who does believe
threading their way through folly
and the falling? It's as easy
as the way rainbows slide
their magic, the way I am
into you, the startled starlings
settling home, the flush of bloom,
a filling room. Between the rapture
and the rose is a garden
and a blush.
The softening touch, so much
the sibilant rush, a sensuous
lush response. Something
like belief, like the rapt
heavenly way the earth smells:
the loam of loving you, the pebbled
path of pardon, leafing, like music
between the rapture and the rose.
Lorna Dee Cervantes
5-21-11
Labels: Lorna Dee Cervantes, poem, Poetry
posted by Lorna Dee Cervantes at 1:06 PM
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