Last night, a dream of lions
bounding at humans
A violent dream, I woke with the force of the leap
the hurling of a body, the great heaving forth
elegant, muscular forms, forms full of power.
Where in my fragmented consciousness
they came from, I know not
but they came back to me this afternoon
in the midst of my fifth mile,
breathing deep, feeling tautness
from hip to foot, legs pushing forward
and looking up, a flock of Canadian geese
streaming in formation across the sky.
Their wings flailing in the wind, my god
the distance they travel--
in life, in motion
Nor'easter roaring, March begins
like lions they say--and it is true.
I have been dreaming about them, about lions
and lovers and a silk slip from Siena.
I run across the shore
hands swollen and frozen
pushing into sheer force
wind & sand & snow
rage & crack & blow
against something stronger than myself,
inside there is fire, soon the thaw of a hot bath,
soaking in the storm by candlelight
feeling my life
to be a wild
and simple thing.
Winter stretches this year
hurling out another storm
winds more daring
and I am all joy
knowing April comes
a new courage to lace boots
to run across the ice
to stand on the abandoned shore
with gulls against white caps
lost in constant motion
blank sheets cascading
hovering above frozen sand
hallucinatory river streaming across the earth
vision quite real.
Take me wind, take me winter
I lie down before you, this
is one of your last.
I have heard rumors of buttercups
beneath the snow.