Three Poems | by Fabrice Poussin

Slipping away

Brace yourselves, hang on to your very life
no safety belt will do; nor a hand on the rail
grab your heart, take hold of your soul
watch for the bumps on the path.

She may come to a sudden stop
the hour rushes away, she fears being
bruises galore, cuts and scratches to the deep
it is the fight of her life can’t you see?

Don’t let go of the vision, it is no illusion
bank on the dream, it will hurt a little
said the old sage, accustomed to torture
her sleep seems far, she turns in peace.

But a war rages, no quarters will be made
another must die, and yet many more
for the field is one of mines and booby traps
still so still she remains, satin skin and pearly hair.

Soon out of the unknown she will return beaten
never truly resting, the perilous ride will continue
but for the promising hand that holds the mindful one
too empowered with the caring of her previous soul.


Undisturbed

Thought seems so deep for her, alone between the walls,
will she retain this privacy or again see the instant disturbed;
entry allowed who will dare again disrupt the joyous balance
of the child woman entranced in her rhythmic creation?

Not a sound safe for the foliage upon the window pane,
her chest barely works its wonders on gravity around;
gift, her breath, a precious one, communes with its world;
life, a warmest blanket, wraps her in infinite comfort.

At a soft entrance her eyes arise in sweet puzzlement,
a smile nervous, her heartbeat presses to her soul,
all of azure enlightens, as she enlivens in a new vision,
away from the dream she sits straight and alert.

A few syllables exchanged and perhaps a chuckle,
a day made in sweet harmony cheek to the frame,
no cringe, but a gentle quip of laughter from her heart,
deep beneath the clear satin pearled with the morn’ of life.

Then it is gone, flash of a thousand years, into oblivion,
not so, marked for now and forever more on the membranes,
invisible to most, felt by all, radiating to the firmament,
the temporary joy armed with the power of everlasting life.


In Dew Time

The ray pierces gently, and passes the giant leaves unhurt;
magnolia of fall teasing a tender eye as it contemplates.
Blue in complete likeness, the soul venturing upward,
the heart too, winged in victory reaches to no limits.

The satin skin shivers with life in a tender mist from below;
fortunate blades of lively Bermuda commune without question;
countless eyes discover in fragments a creature bathed in light;
she stands motionless in the morning dew, in awe perfect.

Needless to take another step this hour, needless to disturb
the soft balance of the new born offered, simple, pure.
The infinite depth of her shines through a great challenge,
to a star drowned in astonishing joy in a subtle smile.

A child at play, nearby giggles, touched by the droplets of
Many worlds. The shock barely enters her world so private,
a breeze nearly dies as it caresses the summer dress.
Yet she refuses to alter time, as she masters its passing.

The ray again will attempt its aggressive stance
to no avail, for her life has conquered all that is.
Her aura expands beyond her universe unperceivable,
now unbounded, her being penetrates even space.

No void remains as she reaches intent, and fills
of her what was other, perhaps none, but in need
to become. Princess of infinite conquests, statue living,
giantess among colossus, she is creator, mother, goddess.

Lips trembling intense of bliss, invaded of thoughts intimate,
the blues in passionate counter attack, claim victory, loving.
Her adoring palms acknowledge the blessings exposed an instant;
heart vulnerable, beating delicately to a rhythm unknown.

The hands of time have clasped onto the precious second,
granting a place royal, to preserve it for posterity among the stars.
Now she will begin, conscious of an hour future when
again, this refuge will open its ephemeral doors only to her.


 

 

 

Me-BW

Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and dozens of other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review and more than 200 other publications.

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