| DOOR AJAR by Fabrice Poussin Door AjarLosing direction I sighed again made of what he imagined in a late night little me at dawn in the river of torrential passions cooled to the icy granite rock.I plunged again Olympian without laurels hoping for a sweet sea of my own nectar to part for eternity and find a way back to Sappho my dearest sister far away on her isle.I saw cliffs racing to their own demise as I made my way through crimson gashes cuts I had once heard rumored in his eyes imagining my freedom at the bottom of the abyss.I knew I would once reach the eternal void swimming a crawl to ecstasy as in a prayer like the old man by the sea and make it to where again I will find the self I am to be. Final JourneySwimming the traitorous river I made my way back to the frosty peaks on the eternal snows of Mt Blanc I found the throne you built for me.There you planted a tree of crystal orbs so many prisms birthers to worlds of light and a simple choice to make to complete the journeys to your sphere.Blinded in this darkened quest I climbed to the highest limb for only one of the fruit I should taste lest it was death to be the reward.You marked the way with a gentle scent a replica of heaven you created thus there on the top of the mountain fireworks would brighten the cosmos again. Home at lastIn a three-story home you settled on the top floor walls of marble and smooth stone on a beach of flowers and sand.No windows from this new world looking within a single land now conversing with companions not addressed in decades.A family once again for a while longer perhaps united by a new earth soft with a bed of pansies.There I stand as you sleep waiting for the rain to share a moment of solace and hug eternity in your presence. ImageWrapped in the linen of many an age she stands by the island in a world of sweet aromas mesmerized by the floating words of those nearby her eyes shine forth with the warmth of a deep soul.Her creation too remains still so close to her being the gaze meeting with hers at a common aim they might touch hand, if they did not melt in spirit together as once they were in the twinkle of an eye.The soft features folded in the frame of a girlish pony tail the breast heaves that of a woman in full harmony still, he watches her drawn by an unseen energy her aura in a glow made of powers unfathomed.He sees, she feels, here near the island and then the hearth she knows, he wishes as the talk goes to another tome what will be next, as she walks to a life owed it must be so, she with her, tight and no place for a stranger. Last SealThere is a velvety place with the sweetness of nectar a valley made for the gods where none is welcome remembering of births, forecasting wondrous climes a bed of young leaves of grass and budding blossoms.Safe haven, no less than heaven in every season to rest one’s intimate dreams upon the restful pillow Into an impossible death from the gentle roots of a mother.Exploring the deep discovery between those mounds parting the green curtains softly to the next realm as a dew settles from the sweet breath of a giant there is no more a need to rise but to surrender.The kiss of life is shared by much more than crimson lips as the hollow closes onto this prison of one penitent not to be encountered again outside of these marble walls the future is sealed in union of vale and conquered intruder. About the Author:Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, Adelaide and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications. |