The Gift

I will show you your great courage,

I will teach you to see beauty,

I’ll gift you with a smile as bright

As the Sun’s, round whom dances the Universe;

/

But the wings I will give you will cost you your legs;

The truths I’ll share with you will be hammered like nails

Into the old, cracked, yet stubborn walls of your mind,

Built of prejudice and recycled thoughts;

/

I will grant you the Wind’s freedom,

Turn your voice into a wild Thunder;

I’ll reforge your heart into one as strong

As this of the Earth-Mother;

/

But the strength you will have will be tested each day;

The light in your eyes will draw darkness and pain,

And the love that will live in your chest must survive

The tests of indifference, of hatred, of time…

/

I offer you these gifts freely;

I offer you these burdens, heavy;

Will you take them from me bravely

Or pretend that you can’t hear me?

Cinderella Walks

My shoes of dazzling diamonds

Have spikes on the inside;

The beauty I see when I walk

They turn into scorchingly painful nightmares;

/

My dresses, which like spring waters flow –

Were hand-woven from living adders;

When I walk, their touch makes my skin crawl

And my veins – overflow with venom;

/

My smile is the gate to my heart –

It’s a scar that refuses to heal,

Proudly showing itself to the world as I walk;

I once believed naively that scars, too, had appeal;

/

My eyes from two grains of grey sand

Have grown into two mountains of granite;

I carry my mountains wherever I walk,

And dance on their slopes with bleeding feet,

A crippled smile, wearing Cinderella’s cerement

I Love

I love the cool transparency

Of the Himalayan skies;

The calm, unfeeling way the sun

Shines without warmth upon

The powerful black pyramids,

The chrystal mountain tops,

And the tiny figures frozen to

Their ragged ridges and their endless slopes;

/

I love the deceiving embrace

Of cold lakes and ocean depths;

One moment it will comfort you,

The next — strangle to death;

The waves will share their fairy-tales

And secrets with one man,

While another will be driven mad

By a sudden storm’s black rage;

/

I love the true, raw loneliness

Of a fighter in the ring,

Where fears collide and courage hides,

Where dreams turn into demons;

Where the audience curses and cheers

The winner of the fight,

While the loser, destroyed, disappears,

Into the quiet of doubt;

/

I love the roads that can’t be built

And those, which know the rhythm

Of thousands of pilgrims’ feet,

And the tales of sins they want forgiven;

Those roads, which take you to the edge,

Where, off the precipice,

You can send flying down a rock

Or a burdensome memory;

/

These things I love and want the most

Run, like sand, through my fingers;

Not for a moment they’ll pretend

That they exist solely for me;

One day I wish I could become

Just like the things I love –

Like a diamond which outlives each owner,

Oblivious to touch, impervious to time;

Dorian Gray/The Map

How heavy you’ve become,

My eyelids!

How small and pale you look,

My lips!

/

How many branches

Have the wrinkles

Upon this tree

Of memories!

/

How many deaths

Have closed these eyes and

How many times

This skin has been reborn!

/

How many lives,

In one assembled,

Make up the face

I call my own!

/

I look at it –

How I abhor it:

The greed it stands for,

The impatience!

/

I look at it –

And I rejoice to

See painted on it

Love, forgiveness, grace;

/

One thing is certain –

There’s no room for

Another route

Upon this busy map;

/

The only place

That it can lead to

Is but another

Hellish maze;

/

I’ll rip that map

To puzzle pieces;

And draw a new one

In its place;

/

All I have been

And all I’ve cherished

I must let go of

And replace;

/

Beyond regret,

In a chest of treasures,

I’ll keep

The puzzle of the past;

/

And none will see

The real face of

Dorian Grey

Until he dies

The Weakness

I think of you
As a thunderstorm at night,
As rainbow on the morning
Of rebirth;
/
I see you
As a blizzard, wild and blind,
And as sharp glitter of fresh snow
Hiding the darkness of the world;
/
I touch you
As I would a masterpiece –
With the warmth
Of my fingertips, solely;
/
I listen to you
As I do to the great
Keeper of time and secrets –
The sea;
/
And I cherish
And detest you
As my only
Weakness