Life Stage


IMG_20130604_181748_742

 

I hope I’m not a “pantaloon” in my middle-age

Clowning around in my own self-importance.

with paunchy sides and drooping eyes

Silver–lined hair wanting repair,

Laughing at my own self-imposed despair.

 

I want to be elegant in my carriage

With eyes bright like morning’s light,

And poetic tongue—quick and lithe

to praise the soft petals of delight

And sing my urgent heart’s desire.

 

Who wants to be a doddering fool

With slack mind flowing with repetition

Of unsung dreams, and hopeless monologues

Of how things aren’t what they used to be.

 

Instead, take me to your snow-clad mountains

To drink, to taste, to breathe such majesty

And let my blood run wild like maple syrup

Such sweet infusion of sun and scent and

Spring me, pour me, take my every starlight fervor

For if “All the world is a stage”, I’ll be alive

til’ my last bow, when petals fall, my day is done

without so much of a second childhood.

 

April 1, 2015

*Note: Shakespeare writes of the seven stages of mankind, the 6th being the Pantaloon.

For A Moment


sunrise

sunrise

For a moment

The silence had roots

And clung to me like

A light cloak

With a bed of stars

Gleaming in its velvet folds

Black, purple, light

Settling in for

A deep night.

 

And I breathed,

Again,

Deeply.

 

 

Ode To Maya Angelou


Maya,

I will always miss you.

A great tree is who You were,

Roots surging past jagged stones,

Steady, sure, sifting

Through the gravel in my bones,

Waking each cell,

Feeling each bruise,

Absorbing life’s

Battered branches sprouting with light,

And giving me strength,

And breath to breathe,

A beacon in a dark land,

Hope, when all seemed broken,

A free bird soaring,

Picking up the pieces of my heart

Where your cage fell apart,

Following the drinking gourd.

In your trail of living water

I live

In your promised land,

And though you didn’t know me

Your voice was familiar to me,

Comforting, warm like honey,

A resilient old negro spiritual,

Surging, throbbing beyond southern soil,

A thriving river soft like tear drops,

Yet strong,

Running deep where cuts lashed with sorrow

Tangled in veins, and skin, and memory.

Your words healed me with your passion,

Woke me with self-compassion.

You are the rising spirit on the backs of history,

You are the dark ocean moving,

Threading a journey into tomorrow.

Bright diamond,

In the star studded sky,

Lead the way to water,

And I will follow.

 

Karen K. L. Espaniola,

June 1, 2014

 

Sky River


IMG_20130917_063014_975-1

I look to the sky river,

A fluid, timeless, spaceless current,

My heart wide open,

Ready to gather ripples

From the universe,

A hopeful flow that pulls me in

And bathes me

in fingers of light.

Rain Haiku


IMG_20140427_172527_056-1

Misty rain on skin

Fallen colors breathing in

Becoming the earth

 

The earth is in me

Patterns of light are woven

Intricate beauty

A Stone Throw


IMG_20140418_180407_435

Pull Over,

And walk twenty yards

From the highway.

 

Myth is alive,

Movement rustling in darkness,

Light seeping from clouds,

A slight breeze,

A dancing Lehua blossom

Swaying unseen,

An unbeaten path,

A stone throw

from the known.

 

We are divorced from what’s real,

Believing in our own superiority,

And have we forgotten our relations?

 

The stone, the moss, the mist, the mountain,

All waiting for us to return home.

 

 

 

 

 

Goddess Divine


Light

From the Goddess,

Divine Luminescence,

An ancient awakening

In my words,

In my thoughts,

In my understanding

Creative energy,

Billowing heart, sacred mind,

Translucent water

runs through me,

Is me,

Is her.

IMG_20140409_071942_593

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

,

 

 

Son


IMG_20130604_081826_146

I gave you everything I could,

Gave up all that I was,

A composting tree dropping leaves

To become bare bark peeling

in every season,

in every storm,

Knowing that one day you would be better,

Stronger, brighter, smarter than I could ever be,

Your small voice asking me about the stars, and the moon, and the universe,

Hoping I would know all the answers,

Waiting for my words of gold,

My thoughts that were heaven sent,

Because you believed in me

The way I believe in you now,

The way I want you to fight now,

Fight for your right to sprout leaves,

To grow strong in the blue sky,

Branches waving in defiance over all that would keep you down,

Defy the shade that would hide you in its shadow,

Defy the world that would crumple you from the inside out,

Test your mind, your spirit, your body,

And try to place you underground.

And if I could say it all again,

I would look in your small face and tell you

That You ARE the Universe,

and the Universe is in you,

That you have the power

To make time and space your own creation,

And thrive, despite the darkness

Shine, despite the pain

And reach out, despite the heat.

For there is not one word, one phrase, one action

That could ever make me love you any less.

KKLE  February 15, 2014

Dear Rumi


IMG_20140116_085410_191-1

 

Dear Rumi,

Centuries later,

You have made me cry,

For I too have been here since the dawn of time,

Absorbing essence of light and dark, soil and sky,

But the word,

Your words,

Read from ancient scrolls

Left me bleeding with the thorns of roses wanting more,

Pleading for the universe to make my words eternal,

For my passion, like yours, to last forever,

In hunger, in longing, in forgiveness and in letting go,

To carry this heavy burden of love, in beauty,

Like you,

A brilliant flower garden in the cyclical budding of time,

In grief, and in joy,

for all the universe to hear and feel and love,

That timeless heartbeat aching to be free

Yet wanting to be captured

By her, by me, by infinite melody.

 

For Noora, Who Inspires,

Karen K.L. Espaniola,  January 26, 2014

 

 

Threshold


 

 

 

IMG_20131116_063608_548-1

 

Her tired eyes in firelight,

Whisper,

Speaking in broken words,

Softly, yet fearlessly,

fully, wholly,

lovingly

of death, of sorrow,

of joy in the next room.

Warm words fall from her lips, her heart,

Imagery from  a bedside’s “darkest hour”

now at the doorstep,

her Beloved’s crossroad,

meridian of existence evolving in light,

honored

In the presence of Love,

A great goddess whose

Light never seemed brighter,

Or beauty seem so radiant,

Than now, in this moment,

this inevitable moment

when she does not give up, or say good bye,

But remains steady

Despite exhaustion,

She speaks assuredly of surreal dreams,

of yesterday, today, and tomorrow,

A wild flower bending gently

in acquiescence of change,

She lovingly steps away from her fireplace

and lends a hand

in the crossing of the

threshold of time.

 

 

KKLE November 17, 2013

Poetry

Copy Rights

© Karen K.L.Espaniola and hinarising.com. 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Karen K.L. Espaniola and hinarising.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.