Hard As It Is
He talks of Mohs scales;
she, of astral signs.
They gather rubies
on the long Silk Road.
*
Tears of Buddha run
the color of pigeon blood.
The mountain is all stone.
*
Rain washes out fire.
Her ruby-syllabled throat
hums heart's bluest notes.
*
Forty years they walk
the golden path, love binding
ruby-slippered feet.
© 2014 Maureen E. Doallas
Maureen, my husband and I have been married 41 years in July. This poem reminded me of that...and a kind of 'yellow brick road' feeling. We have no idea what we're doing when we set off on the marriage journey. :-)
ReplyDeleteI'm entranced by what you do with transforming textures in this poem: not only the magical rubies, but all the contrasts of hard and soft. All in all, a rich evocation of what 40 years of a relationship can do.
ReplyDeleteA jeweled tapestry of shared experience, a road paved not with good intentions, but with the light indent of their feet --- shifting, seeming only as heavy as feathers, the sharing so efficient; they carry for each other what is necessary to keep them moving forward, the road creating a pattern uniquely theirs; those souls fortunate enough to have stayed the path.
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