Sandy_iPad_gazingGlobe

Will She Come To Me Now?

–Sandy Brown Jensen

(This poem is about my unusual muse, who is a ten foot tall hominid who survived the Ice Age and still roams the Pacific Northwest. She is not to be confused with Sasquatch of urban legend fame or Dzonoquah of the sacred Kwakwakawak tribal pantheon except that in Dreamtime, she is both of those. I am working on a book of poems called Giantess.)

 

Will she come to me now when

the little creek of grief is nothing

but dark water in an old ditch

inching upward with the swell

of winter rain?

She is a creature

of the far North. All winter

She sleeps as the bears sleep.

She lets her dream body loose

to roam, held to her sleeping

bulk by the thinnest of silks.

When the winter nights

are tin cold and the stars

so far away that I may as well

have my head in a bucket

punched with holes, I look

for her between fir trees. I listen

for her in the gunshot snap

of a frozen limb. I try

to find her thread

and lead her to me here.

Now the March thaw

is breaking up the rivers

the way, long after a death,

the heart begins to rise again.

I know she is traveling

toward me now, the long

southward beaches still roaring

with open mouths their storm

surge songs.

She is finding

cockles among the seaweed,

and her eyes, if you could see them,

have twin catchlights

like inverted crescent moons.

One thought on “Will She Come To Me Now?”

  1. Cheryl Renee Long – Seattle, WA USA – Professional artist/educator. My primary medium is watercolor and my subjects include birds, landcapes, florals and what is fascinating me in the moment. I live, paint and teach art in the Seattle, Washington area. My philosophy has a distinctly secular and yet spiritual slant. My interests include organic gardening, whole food cooking, geology, archeology, all of the earth sciences. I like to dialog with people about what matters the most to the planet.
    Cheryl Renee Long says:

    A dark poem, hidden, earthy. I smell moss and ferns. I sense her mystical presence but this is no whimp of a fairy. She has legs like two ancient maples, growing side by side from the forest floor. She is mythical – it seems she bridges for you the deep ancient history of the indigenous world and lifeways with your modern mind.

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