the origin. the end.

(a teaching tale)

she woke up lonely amidst the songs of spring

and decided that today would be an end

and perhaps a beginning

so she went walking her wild way

she went first to the stream and with her trickling tongue

talking and singing she reminded her

of the clearing of branches, of the cleansing of debris

of the way she helped her to breathe

and walked on carrying her first gift

the handfuls of the slick soft clay

that clung to her fingers in its friendly trusting way

she set it gently to rest in the wooden bowl

she had cleaned and saved for this

and went on walking looking with her quick eyes

for what it is she wanted to see 

she found the old willow by the stream

and whispering to it high in his arms

with the water singing counterpoint to please

she asked for the new green switches

that had the gift of growth in them and the strength 

of the solemn trunk as well

and because she had loved well and told stories often

the tree surrendered to her his slips of wood

she took and laid it by the bowl

carefully in the light to let it drink in the warmth

and with water to quench its thirst

and went to walk again with her careful hands

pushing through the long grass she felt for her treasure

she asked the sweet spring rose

trading cautiously the prick of blood

for the sweet petals that lay soft upon her palm

it took gentleness and it took pain

but the petals came gracefully

as ever a lady gives

and she took them with the same grace and a kiss

the petals she put softly on her white cloth

folded like a cushion or a throne

and went again to wander with her slender feet

slipping through the trees that bent towards her

stopping to span a trunk of the almond tree

and with her laughing fingers

run up and around through the creases in the bark

till with its own shaking joy she gave her back

and tumbled two spinning nuts into her waiting hands

like the few tears that laughter brings

amidst the gasping chaos of the world being right for a moment

the almonds she placed with the rose petals

tucking them in like jewels against their settings

and with that done she waltzes away

singing a small purposeful song that echoed

against the rocks and trees and sky

until the wind came with its screaming melody

and wrapped her up like an old friend

that she dipped in harmony to and spun up in volume

till with a final trill disappeared into the blue again

leaving her with a new song in her head

and her hands cupped tight against each other

carrying the gift the wind gave

she poured the gift into a seaglass bottle

sealing it quick with wax and letting the light

make rainbows of its swirling grace

then sat and let her door swing

in the shadows of dusk

thinking and tracing in the dust on her table

till with a sigh she stands

and shakes loose the rusting drawer

she slides the contents around with her ginger fingers

plucking at last the heavy charm 

and holding it close to her ear letting the tick

beat through her veins

and with reluctant hands placed it on the table

the sun had fully set 

it was time to set to work

bones of willow that will grow

that will bend but not break

skin of clay that is cool

knows the strength of water

and the love of the sun

lips of rose so soft

that may pierce or soothe

as they please

eyes of almond to watch

the world but not

to let too much in

voice of the wind to sing

of freedom and strength

sorrow and joy

this was almost all

and dawn was almost here

but she sat a while

holding the bronze weight in her hands

wetting the edge of her eyes

the magic will end soon enough

and so she took heart

and with one final thrust

placed in beside the young lungs

the old bronze watch

beating its time away

This is the story of my mother

and how she made me

in the spring one day

out of all the strength she had

i tell you because

the springs are winding down

the hand spins to stop

and i want you to remember

in the midst of all of these

the greatest gift she gave me

was time

oh daughter mine

take your time

with your streetlight spine

and your hair of soft wires

your skin of silicon

and your heart

your heart of flashing lights

a clock your own

i gave you what strength i had

and now you are grown

and i am gone...