Myth of Arrival

Here is the secret I want
to give to you because I
give out secrets. I like
you here and give the way
the Fates give, soothingly,
dear, smoothingly.

You knew you could put
honey in your mouth to
sweeten all this and you
did. You knew the legend
here that says the goat
moon marks certain of us,
dear. Certain of us like you.
And me. Marked. You knew
the story of the apple. Not
that apple but this apple.

You knew the song I
sing in these hills. You
sing it too. Softly.
Softly. No words.
No tune. But softly
since the Fates say
some of us must rise
and some of us must
wait with secrets. Wait
with a secret. This song,
song of the apple. This
apple and its promise. It
is a promise I want to talk
to you about. A promise
to bite hard here, dear,
and into this promise
I shall arrive.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 22nd, 2006 at 1:07 pm and is filed under Original Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.