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DRIFTWOODS
by Herb Senft
Clouds that melt into the sea,
Rain gray blankets that tuck you in.
Mountains that dissappear
before rainy fingers
that touch and whisper
to every nook and cranny.
Dark green forests that lay
even more quietly
under this
dampening silence.
Beaches take the time for loving"
Once the heart of living trees/
Driftwoods -- how inadequate
to
describe two lovers
who still dance together.
Limbs entwined
Like Spiritfingers
carressing this beach
with such touchings --
and
awakenings.
The sky is restless, and the rain it comes
knitting with the sun --
the undying spirit
of these threes,
and their 'Winter's love,'
so eloquent --
so strong.
Spirits rising so quietly
out of these cold liquid depths.
Hoping to wake those who would listen,
and see different skies,
past flat surfaces,
and lands
no longer there.
To find silences released,
and memories of different eyes
now revealingly distant --
Warm voices waken
from these stranded roots.
Patterns of earlier seasons,
still prgnant, still drifting
...
What stories these cedars whisper,
of birth
of forest roots,
of dreamings,
intertwinings.
Of centuries flowing past,
of rains,
and storms
and memories
coursing
through their limbs.
Will our footprints leave such rich patterns behind?
Was it a storm,
or the coldest tremor of them all --
a man
sharpened with a saw
who penetrated their flesh
and put an end to these ancient lives.
These
Driftwood Sprits washed into this ocean
onto this beach into this solitude,
so new lovers could
hear their whispers
embrace once again --
and imagine that leaves
still dance .. somewhere
Locked tightly,
these Lovers,
these sun-bleached
driftwoods
still drifting
through seasons
we have not yet tasted
Heartbeats, still locked together
Driftwoods that lift up to angels.
