I can feel them in the trees!
The Gods, that is;
The ones who prepare us for the Passage Out of Time.
We are Osiris, you and I,
Scattered fragments of Life’s desire;
Long ago recovered from the deserts shifting sands,
One hour glass at a time.
We are nothing but our longing, my friend.
We are merely the sum,
The cost of our own yearning
To be tethered to the Whole.
Meanwhile, Isis reassembles her lover,
Carefully locking fragments of memory back into time.
Interlocking the broken puzzle of our lives,
One piece at a time.
recently returned some poems I had sent her from far, far ago when we ere young and in lust and barely able to bare the sight or scent of each other without fainting into reverie and floating together; clouds that had long since let go of their rain.
It is a gift to visit ancient ports and distant shores.
Time is as big as the world it passes by.
So it is with words:
hiding in the rain.
never show your pain.
some kind of innocence
is nourished in your fears.
you don’t know how much
I’ve tried just to hold you near.
(there is no way out-
-there is no way out).
the poet earns his keep
from reading the pain in others eyes
while his eyes are fountains
of tear drops and shattered sunlight.
Igor Goldkind 1983
You love me, I know with your own hands
For I am faithful to your fingertips.
When you pierce me with your wide-eyed glances,
I am stilled.
The earth grows roots around my calves,
And my body is made of branches.
Your gaze shivers their leaves like an Autumn breeze.
Igor Goldkind 1977
by the emptiness
Igor Goldkind late 70’s
And then Paris, 1986: