Crows

by Mary Saracino

Crows don’t seek bread

or sheltered warmth

but something else more sustaining

something that defies gravity & time

the whims of shifting seasons

unrelenting heat

bitter cold

sheets of pouring rain

and all the many other

encumbrances life trusts

upon birds & humans;

the crows’ sturdy black wings carry them

over rooftops, treetops, highways

one lands on an eave, turns her head

blinks at the sun glinting off the metal

downspout; another circles an aspen

claims a limb, waits for who knows what

I watch from the sidewalk, head cocked

wondering if crows worry about

sleet and snow and boys with BB guns

or getting safely home

the birds don’t mind if I stare or fret

they leave me to my musing

I sit on the grass, gaze at the clouds

distracted by my own illusions

when I turn back, the crows

have left their roosts, flown away

off to places unknown to me

places beyond the reach of my

limited ways of knowing.

What Starts

by Mary Saracino

What starts is never what arrives;

the eager door swings open

hopeful feet step on stones from here to there;

we traverse the long road from home to hinterland

wearing shoes dusty with dreams

a tattered coat, a hat soggy from sleet or dew

our bellies hungry for bread, meat, comfort;

we begin the journey as pilgrims

befriending fields & lonely mountaintops

biting brambles & whimsical wildflowers

beneficent bees & boisterous birds;

we sing to towering oaks & thorny roses

swollen rivers & murky lakes

chilling winds & replenishing rains

biting snow & blistering sun;

we end the journey as refugees

longing for where we started

uncertain of where we have arrived

our skin tougher, more wrinkled

our hearts opened, yet weary

our hopes & aspirations forever altered

by the weather, the whims of chance

the kindness or cruelty of strangers

the losses & joys, laughter & tears

gathered or spilled along the way.

Vernal Equinox

Halfway between night & day

We pause, hearts momentarily held in equilibrium.

We glance toward the east then the west

certain that the sun will not desert us.

Our bare heads welcome the howling winds of warming March.

Fierce air fills the hollows of our ears as we stand

determined to merge with the elongated light

poised as it is between melting snow & pregnant buds.

The ripe soil seeds hope in our souls.

We clasp hands, sing symmetrical dreams

relinquish winter-weary sleep

& all that ties our bones to cold death’s memory.

The dark recedes as bright spring claims us

greening everything it touches.

Mother Moon

Tonight the Mother Moon rises pregnant in the sky

shining her resplendent light upon the world

dazzling us with the fullness of her being

reminding us that we are never alone.

Some say the full moon triggers madness

unleashes wild desires

untamed hopes and dreams

unchecked passions.

I say the Mother Moon unloosens hope

and the promise of transformation

her light a beacon, urging us inward

to claim our lunar memory

find our way back

to the original womb of consciousness

that soul-seed of the world that

birthed the human psyche

syncopated the beating of the human heart.

St. Joseph’s Day March 19, 2011

In Italy, San Giuseppe is a hero, not a cuckold.

He married an unwed pregnant woman

raised a son who was not his own, without complaining.

On his feast day a table is laid, a three-tiered altar

adorned with flowers, candles, fava beans, wine, cakes,

bread and cookies made of flour

to honor the beloved carpenter’s saw dust.

In America, in enclaves like New York City, New Orleans

Kansas City, Chicago, and Providence

Italians give bread to the poor

filling bellies emptied of sustenance

filling hearts emptied of hope

to pay homage to this regular Joe

a man of the people, a soulful soul

who listened to the angels, not the cynics

who did the right thing when the right thing was called for.

Whale Dancer Prayer

In the heart of the whale

In the belly of the sea

In the womb of memory

Dream

Dream

Dream

Sing

Sing

Sing

Dance

Dance

Dance

One love

One life

One world

One people

One peace

Paesana/Italiana

1.      Tuscany

I am northern cinghiale

savory, untamed

claiming the thick forests as my home

I am pungent pecorino seasoned with sheep’s milk

timeless as the undulating Tuscan hills

shimmering with sunflowers,

scented with cypress

my veins run ruby with Chianti

my bones grow strong on succulent

green-gold, first-press olive oil

my eyes behold the faces

of mountains, the shadows of sorrow

my ears ring with rumors, whispered

in the ruins of Etruscan hill towns

where women always stood eye-to-eye with men

sustaining the wide, round world.

2.      Puglia

I am southern fava beans

simmering in earthen bowls

rosemary-scented roast lamb

purple-kissed eggplant

zuppa di mare, spiced with saffron — yellow-orange,

fragrant with the perfume of North Africa, West Asia

the lands from which my ancient mother-tongue —

my original heart — sailed

the aqua arms of the sea

hug the high-plains habitat

of my Apulian ancestors

the curved, stone-washed trulli

glisten under the furious, scorching sun

the voices of dark-skinned

Madonnas reverberate through my marrow

releasing a concerto of yesyesyes!

as the hot wind whistles

through the dusty open fields

dances on the delicate petals

of crimson poppies

tickles the feathery, flaxen

tassels of winter wheat.

Unsung Songs

"There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside you."
--Maya Angelou

Some stories we bear as whispers
secrets too terrible to tell
silently they cower inside us
lacking the courage to fly
their telling unspoken
of places so broken
the heart is unable to mend
but life and its woes
its joys and its blessings
calls us to rush out the door
race through the streets
let loose a whoop
gather the stars in our arms
in the dark of the night
under the light of the moon
the places inside you are listening
with the mouth of your heart
let the telling begin
sing the unsung songs of your soul
unsilence the stories you've silenced
unburden your bones and be free
dance in the dark with the gypsies
relinquish your agony