September 10, 2003
Awakened Woman's Circle is working for peace
THIS PLACE IS FRAGILE:
Four Poems by Marie Lavendier
Body Memory
I am 24
Floating on my back
In a turquoise swimming pool
Next to a cream colored mansion.
The sun
Is kissing my young body
Which I surrender to the
Brilliant sky like a lover.
The water
Cradles my head, gently rocking me.
I am beholden to no one….
From this supine position
I watch, through heavy eyelids,
The maple tree
Towering in the center of the yard.
"Remember this moment!"
It says to me.
"You may never have it like this again…."
Now, decades later --
a wife, mother, graduate student --
The glint of sunshine on the icy windowpane
Has retrieved for me this memory,
A tonic for my weariness
On this frigid January day.
I savor it like a hot, nourishing bowl of soup.
Warmth spreads in my belly,
I close my eyes,
Breathe deeply,
Hear the voice of the maple reminding me, "Your body is a vehicle for bliss…."
The Compassion of Trees
I weep at the kitchen sink.
Outside the rain splashes softly.
Tall pines, maples and oaks,
A row of green priestesses,
Witness my sobs.
Their glistening branches absorb my cries.
Will my husband leave me? I ask them.
Once, I would have gathered with other women At the village spring.
Filling our gourds with cool water,
We might have shared, laughed, and comforted. . .
No one could hide then
As I do now.
At least the trees beyond my window Respond And offer an exchange:
Oxygen for carbon dioxide,
Absolution for my tears.
Aging
Life is a poem for me now.
Once, a dance,
Blood rhythyms pounding in my veins,
Fire in my feet,
Burning up through my thighs,
Flames licking at my partners,
Sometimes
Leaving nothing but ash.
Now I see moments
Metered out in lines:
The red lights of an ambulance flashing
In old Mrs. Thompson's driveway
Punctuated by a flash of yellow
As an oriole crosses my path.
I flee on my bicycle
Away from the drama
Toward calmer byways.
Cool breezes caress,
I breathe in.
A quieter choreography,
But no less passionate.
A Place Called Hope
This place is Fragile.
As delicate as the membrane of a birth sac,
A baby's fontenelle
Or a heart pulsing like a pair of butterfly wings.
I've been here before,
danced inside this Ace of Wands
Of new beginnings
Bursting with vibrant yellow energy
Spiraling upward and outward
Only to fall
And burn . . .
So for today, this moment
I'll sit here
And feel contented,
A creature
Warm, fed and dry,
My car
A haven,
Sheltering me from the soft pattering of the rain.
MARIE LAVENDIER
Marie Lavendier writes, dances, mothers and has a Master's degree in Marriage and Family Therapy. Before that, she taught school in the inner city. She has loved poetry since she was seven.