Vernazza

They took me though strange lands,

mountains in clouds, and

churchbells that sang with the birds.

Loud, steady, hot.

Black under the rock.

And then, wild and higher than St. Peter’s dome.

Craning for a look,

Feeling myself growing.

They put me on a platform,

took the wind and left the still warmth,

speaking to me as if

I was the only one embraced.

The most unassuming of places,

protected my nothing but respect.

The air breathed welcome-

can I stay?

There is nothing but sunlight bleeding through the walls.

But further down-

can you buy this?

Can we really pay for something

meant to be unbridled and eternal?

But I took it from them-

I took the part that is free for men everywhere-

because it’s God’s, and He doesn’t charge.

I am not ruler here-

the voices surface from deeper in the earth.

The ancient is quiet-

those absent speak to me,

and my soul yearns

to learn what they remembered,

even before I was born into the forgetting.

The Virgin Mary watched

my reverent footsteps,

and I needed nothing

but to become this

as serenity enveloped me.

I decided, up on that

precipice of time, that

when I am broken

I will go there to heal.

They took me away. But I took it with me.

The old, slanted steps,

the lady that knew what was more important,

the lights slanting off the rocks, and

the pathway of rock and hay, which is,

in it’s humblest form,

paradise.



July 13, 2013