MA CHAMBRE

“I am glad that I paid so little attention to good advice; had I abided by it I might have been saved from some of my most valuable mistakes.”      – Edna St. Vincent Millay

MA CHAMBRE

Terra cotta tiles

Line elliptical stairway

Ascension to where

Dreams occur

Nestled loosely

Between

Cotton clouds

Boundaries fall

In the darkness

Realities collide

Outside my window

Le château

Entices nocturnal

Wandering

Bisous

Léa

I hear you soaring

“What is buried in the past of one generation falls to the next to claim.”

– Susan Griffin

 

I hear you soaring

I know why

The caged bird sings

I know her songs

Her voice

Clear, pure, painfully true

She sings of things

Nice girls don’t talk about

She tells family secrets

Her eyes shine brightly

A beacon for other birds

She exposes herself

Her cage gilded and ornate

Sits by a large picture window

Her heart heavy

Her wings ache

To fully expand

And fly free

The people who put food

In her cage each day

Say they are protecting her

From the animals,

Elements and the hunter’s gun

They kill her

Softly

Her songs more urgent

They bring others

To show her off

This prized possession

They cannot possess

Her Song

She has flown over

White capped mountains

And wave tossed ships at sea

She wept as she flew lowly

Across the killing fields

And sang sweetly

Names of the unknown

As she soared over rainbows

And as she rested on the oak branch

Their net brought her down

Trapped in a cage

For the people to gawk at

For purchase

To own

You can cage the songbird

You cannot own her

Her song is free

I know why

The caged bird

Sings

Bisous,

Léa

Meditations on Friendship

“In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.”
– Albert Schweitzer

Written after being invited in for tea at Rita’s …

She lives her days and nights in the cooler part of town

Coaxing life out of clay, fabric and wood

Her long flowing robes announce she will not cave in

To the demands of fashion

Better homes and gardens do not call for a photo shoot

Too many books, movies, cd’s and collections

Too many bits and pieces waiting to be conscripted

Into her next masterpiece

We all have but a few precious days in this incarnation

She chooses differently than many

Did I tell you she is wise?

Travel is her opium and she will have it

Feeding her habit in far away lands

She knows the beauty of each different face

Raising the chalice of adventure and drinking her fill

I sing delirious from the exposure

Her mantra – the eternal YES!

French café beat, the rhythm thunders through her

A meditation in dance

Bisous,

Léa

Birds of Prey – Saigon

This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness.
– Dalai Lama

birds of prey

the priest and huyen

sit across from the dying mother-in-law

tham, she is Buddhist

and afraid

they smell the rotting meat

of fear

tham is afraid to die

the priest –  eager to convert her

in her time of fear

they hover eagerly

will she take their bait?

a precaution added insurance for

her journey

leaving it behind

whatever use it might be

discarded in a heap with silken pajamas

left behind

as she crosses through the final exit

what remains of 53 years

of traditions

rituals handed down

from her ancestors

will they pick those

bones clean

they chant as they recite the beads

and count her among those caught

in their net

Bisous,

Léa

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