In the Heart of Providence
(for Fredi)
she is a small house of memory
fine as glazed porcelain;
feathered bone’s delicate arches
curling like a galaxy center to edge –
hold inside this vessel –
singing with what those walls
remember; a hollowed-out heart,
today like a cathedral of the eye:
she bends time toward yesterday tomorrow
in starry design
where evening glimmers a covenant
carved out of the soul’s own stone
carved out of the soul's own stone
where evening glimmers a covenant
in starry design
she bends time toward yesterday tomorrow
today like a cathedral of the eye:
remember, a hollowed-out heart,
singing with what those walls
hold inside this vessel --
curling like a galaxy center to edge --
feathered bone's delicate arches
fine as glazed porcelain;
she is a small house of memory
in the Heart of Providence.
Deborah A. Miranda
(for Fredi)
she is a small house of memory
fine as glazed porcelain;
feathered bone’s delicate arches
curling like a galaxy center to edge –
hold inside this vessel –
singing with what those walls
remember; a hollowed-out heart,
today like a cathedral of the eye:
she bends time toward yesterday tomorrow
in starry design
where evening glimmers a covenant
carved out of the soul’s own stone
carved out of the soul's own stone
where evening glimmers a covenant
in starry design
she bends time toward yesterday tomorrow
today like a cathedral of the eye:
remember, a hollowed-out heart,
singing with what those walls
hold inside this vessel --
curling like a galaxy center to edge --
feathered bone's delicate arches
fine as glazed porcelain;
she is a small house of memory
in the Heart of Providence.
Deborah A. Miranda
no words
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