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Denise Dee

THE LANGUAGE OF MY BIRTH

I wake in the morning in the language of my birth
it takes awhile to remember the language of the earth
I paint vivid pictures of a homeland we all know
with my minds eye as a brush
but when I try to use my tongue
the pictures aren't as lush
stroke by stroke appears
a wall between me and you
Each brick a word I imagined we both know
when you start to build, don't use words as your glue

The hut in which I sit is built with sticks and mud
then it's raised on stilts to lift me above the flood
many things float by in a nearby stream
words can float on water useful as a raft
words can be like mud, heavy around your ankles a snare and a trap
always look under the surface of that passing stream
each rock on the bottom contains a whispered dream
a language unspoken lush and wild and green
somewhere in the mud
true words can be found

My hand reaches out to grab one
slippery like a fish
the tighter my grasp, the less likely I'll get my wish
I sit perfectly still and feel a tiny kiss
right between my fingers written there in blood it says
"my dear you're still too scared of the rising flood'
floods can be necessary when roots go down too deep
instead of nibbling at the soil, they begin to leech
not using all the nutrients, growing big but dead
a flood can take you back to a country inside your head

I wake in the morning in the language of the sky
it says "oh my dear one, finally you've come outside,
rest your weary head on the wings of my lovely bird,
what a journey we have taken, thinking about a word
rest now my sweet one, stoop and eat some food"

Everywhere I looked, hanging in front of me
strangled words hung crying offering themselves to me
these are words you've spoken, forget them now, they're dead
I ate the words like berries
juice dribbling down my chin

BOX OF BONES

Please don't tell me that I have to stay broken
Let the loving hand of healing deep into my heart
Impress upon me that feeling
So we'll never be apart

When I recall that feeling
I sometimes get so high
I walk around with my head
Inseparable from the sky

Now that I am broken
I can faintly see
The outlines of the footsteps
That lead back deep into me

Until the day this box of bones
Comes alive again
Until the day this loosened skin
Breathes from the sky again

One day this clay suit
Will tell my story to all who cry again
One day I will be
Inseparable from the sky

Something in my soul cries out loud
You are not you when you're so proud
This clay suit is your house for right now
But your spirit is as transparent
And changeable as a cloud

THE NIGHT SEA

The sea of rains
mound of Venus
part of fortune
all of these are in the night sky
dangling
as we dream
held by an invisible hand

They used to think
the sky was a sea
and this morning
the thick clouds
float luxuriously
like my body
suddenly weightless
in salt water
I wonder if clouds have weight

The symbols of the planets
give weight and bearing to my life now
in a way they never did
oh, they did but I was unaware
I was shifting my body
infinitesimally degree by degree
to face them
the slow way a boat turns on water
more effort to turn
than on land

In the middle of water
there are no bearings except
the night sky
the sound of waves
calls your breath and heartbeat to match them
the night sky has rhythms
you hear in the silence of sleep
and start to turn
infinitesimally degree by degree to join them

The slow moving outer planets
years of turning
the quick moving moon
a glimpse through a window
of time
you may stay asleep and not wake
the night sea dangles closer
the moon you could touch
the morning
dark sky fades
like the memory of a lover
a scent on your skin softens
warmth on the sheets
fading
a salty taste on the tongue
lingers longest

salt of sweat, of water, of tears
the sea of love
the sea of sleep
the sea of water
close your eyes
then
blink back into the light
where was I and how did I get here?

The wonder of salt drying in your mouth
at the corners of your eyes
fine lines of sleep
crease your face

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