I
stand at the gate waiting,
Watching
as you saunter away from me.
I
can’t help wondering how soon you’ll return
Or
if you’ll think much of me while you’re gone.
Loneliness
is a cloak: tight, dark, and cold
Best
burned away by reunion’s bright fire.
Embers
drowse, memories of fire,
Not
sleeping, quite, but fresh fuel awaiting.
Absent
your heat, now quiescent, the cold
Cuts
into my center, slows me, tires me.
My
equilibrium disrupted, gone
The
peak, in trough I await your return.
How
long until the return?
Two
weeks? A dozen? Time enough for fire
To
touch the roses? Petals drop, are gone
To
winter’s heart a new spring thaw waiting.
Speranza
del mio cor[1] do
not leave me.
Dolce
desio in absence is cold.
As
darkness to light so cold
Stands
by heat, empty until your return.
You
are the original cause, for me.
For
all my actions you spark the first fire.
T’en
vai haime, alas, alone, waiting
Sola
mi lasci, addio. You’ve gone.
“Please,
oh please” I beg. “You’ve gone!”
Now
I know why Demeter felt the cold,
Brought
winter when Persephone, waiting,
Ate
those seeds and failed three months to return.
In
anguish she cried and drowned the sun’s fire
For
a season. Just so have you left me.
But
the myth brings hope to me.
Anesidora,
when all else was gone,
Left
at the bottom of her jar a fire.
When
my passes through all the cold
Of
separation I see your return.
The
sweetest fruit is born of that waiting.
Now
let me embrace the cold
While
you are gone, that when you here return
That
fire that animates me is waiting.
20
January 2018
To
Mai Hong
[1] From “Da le belle contrade
d’oriente,” a madrigal by Cipriano de Rore (1516-1565), on an anonymous text.
Speranza
del mio cor, dolce desio, / Hope
of my heart, sweet desire,
T’en
vai, haime, sola mi lasci, addio. / Alas,
you leave me alone, goodbye.
