Photo credit April Anue
Lily of the Valley
by now
we are clearly smitten
unsure of the end but certain of the path to it
all at once I understand something that others have wanted me to read
or at least the reason for so many to agree
it is a simple coming together
the rising voice of two people who know truly of love
somewhere along the way
their tongues have merged into a single song
you and I know it as kindred spirits
we already know what the hours ahead of us hold
so few minutes make up a night together
that we are both out of time before the clocks have run full circle
I want you to be sure of the brown bud
frozen outside your window
baked brown into a dormant husk in defiance of the driven snow
and laced poorly with the ice-cicled web of a lone spider
I want you to know that it is a bud of the Rose of Sharon
again cast against the shadows of another fair Maiden
the sun darkened lily of the valley
biding time in the season of bitter cold and frozen brambles
and so, let’s answer the question rising and falling within your breast
the one that begs at the corners of your mouth
the one that is awakening the unfamiliar craving tugging
riffling and running with your blood’s fire thru your soul
listen, Sweet, as I speak with a plan of love on my lips
with every intention of your flowering and blooming
of covering and protecting of comforting and pleasure
listen, like this bud in repose, for a strum of the web in your Winter
Our’s is not the Solomon Song
but You can be the dark maiden come in from the sun
breaking free from all of the known words of men and sisters
pressing your head gently to the thunder of my welcoming breast
you have been found
every whisper of your heart song is heard without need for reprise
each of your nights are calling for voluminous joy
endless is your destiny evermore becomes the only answer
and so to your soul I speak:
Lily of the Valley Rose of Sharon
do not bother with the brambles that have so long entangled ’round you
press into the shadow of their brittle vein and thorns
come forward to my arms and favor
wipe the weeping memory of any binding rope
untie the warm caress within you
undress the trembling, waiting, loving, searching hopes.
Jas. Mardis 12/28/2017
Jas. Mardis is an award winning Poet, Commentator and a Fabric Artist living in Dallas, TX. Jas. Is a 2014 inductee to The Texas Literary Hall of Fame.
“Responses to Gee’s Bend” an upcoming exhibition at Swarthmore College: UPDATE
