Soul Reclamation


  In an empty room 

within an empty house,

stands a figure: my Persephone

A feast of colors blooms arounds Her. 

/

            I enter at the back, 

through Her kitchen's door--it's unlocked!

           Her back faces me. Her dress is 

white, terry-textured and embroidered in

           indigo blue; softly it kisses the floor. 

Her back slowly turns to the left, 

           Her shoulders too, 

and Her eyes welcome mine…

\

            I am famished, 

famished from enduring Her enduring 

          absence and barren from our forced 

separation. But I am not too late:

           Her belly grows...

and we are still young.

/

           ... I approach Her.

Her face is mine;

           weariness warmed with relief and desire 

 pour from Her eyes and fill us both...

          My arms embrace Her, Her arms embrace me

and gently we rock from side to side,

          turning in a circle…