Hint of the Century

                                                 Hint of the Century

 

Did you see us?,

and them,

did you hear us?, then,  

refusing to be condemned, 

rejecting all past tense, 

and all things and sense,

did you see us?

Old and young,

rich and poor,

free or bound,

from this diaspora or that,

from within and from without,

cheering as one,

in breath, soul and wish,

and chasing all doubt.

Did you get all that?

There is only one Pelest,

one people, one destiny, 

sans all spun, but this one.

Did you get this squint, this thing,

this hint, of their done century?  

Queen of the Temple and the Forty Thieves

Queen of the Temple and the Forty Thieves

 

Sacred is this silence and this chant,

for this closure that is only here and now,

or so it gives. 

Stolen is your story and my past, 

forgive me, no one could show me the way, 

or how to understand and hold back, 

unseen, those frozen tears, 

half-forgotten years,  and everything humble, 

grand or in between.

Forgive me as I never saw you like this before, 

in so much peace, and you can’t. 

Forty thieves have come by, 

stumbled then stowed,

all that I have ever had, and lost.

All that there is to have and lose, 

in freed and tired images, barren and scant.