A SHOWER OF GRACE

A SHOWER OF GRACE

Now, I have to reckon with myself/ that in a while you'll be out of my sight. ---From “Till Next Spring” by Perla Patricio

1.

It is fleeting, but I had my fill

of their company and songs.

Sometime soon, my hummers

must fly off to other gardens,

but I would not be there.  

Strange shadows will linger,

Like rhythmic throbs haunting

my nights, heartbeats of pain

that never leave, overstaying

guests waiting for a last drink. 

When will they leave? Hurts

hold on like geckos on the wall,

they must be pried off. Cut off.

Still their curt staccato echoes

through eerily empty rooms. 

Quiet voices I have heard here

are other voices in other rooms.

I do not hear them bouncing

off these blinds darkening my

windows, hiding a wilted garden.

2. 

Will this longing for the warmth

of a gentle caress, when nights

and beds are cold, find its answer

soon---a knowing touch on my

back, before despair breaks me?  

Tomorrow, I will walk through

an abandoned garden in the rain:

I will tilt my face to some grey sky

like an agape earthen jar, catch

myself some nourishing rain. 

Must I, on my gnarled knees, beg

for these hurts to set me free?

My hummingbirds will fly off

leaving me this mansion of joy,

but oh, a finite hint of eternity. 

Sometime soon, I must frolic

in this uncertain weather, dash

through this shower of grace,

sate my parched throat in the rain,

drink myself delirious but happy. 

--- Albert B. Casuga

09-20-11