I
Am
A trinity
of loves
Leaving two,
I return
to one.
-photo by shamash
Taos Cemetery
New Mexico
January 2006
"And so I fly out of Albuquerque to Los Angeles to Singapore to my home
Here
Where orchids grow wild like the cacti on the New Mexico mesa
Where rice grows like the wild peppermint along the Pennsylvania fencerow down the road from grandma’s house
Where the buddhas of Asia are bigger than inflated snowmen, but no more sacred."
"Trinity of Loves"
by shamash
I leave the cold, winter fields of PA all covered in snow
Say goodbye to my grandfather, who sits on his couch watching
“Little House on the Prairie” re-runs
With his coffee-table altar to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren before him:
black and white photos fading...
Me as a child
all wide-eyed and innocent
my dark hair curling up and away
Like my heart, like my dreams
There, propped against the candy dishes, postcards I sent him from Prague, from Holland, from Thailand, from Vietnam, from England.
He loves me with a love for which I am unworthy,
His gypsy granddaughter held so high in his heart.
His daughter, my mom, feeds me all the meat I didn’t eat all year
I say goodbye to my grandmother, the one who looks like Queen Elizabeth and everyone says so- She with
her mind long-gone- she who can no longer write, she who no longer knows her name nor mine.
She is happy, though,
back in her childhood, to the time before I was born,
Before I traveled the world, leaving them all behind
On their quiet couches, in their warm kitchens, their loving beds
In her mind, I have never left, never returned
And so I leave, flying to
The desert lands of the Southwest, to my tribe in New Mexico, who wait for my arrival at the airport with a pear in a rusting, antique birdcage,
Who share with me drinks of Amaretto,
Who gift me with 80 lbs of delicious books to take back in my Samsonite,
precious rings, and organic morning fried eggs,
Taos Mountain coffee, and cream,
The sparks of love in their eyes as hard and bright as diamonds
distilled to a purity worthy of the Dali Lama
Desert eyes, the excess gone, the kernels of the essential
And so I fly out of Albuquerque to Los Angeles to Singapore
to my home
Here
Where orchids grow wild like the cacti on the New Mexico mesa
Where rice grows like the wild peppermint along the Pennsylvania fencerow down the road from grandma’s house
Where the buddhas of Asia are bigger than inflated snowmen, but no more sacred
I return to where the snows of sadness cover my heart, muting the sound of the
Buddhist monks chanting all night over the droning of my ceiling fan,
I return to where the sounds of ravens and exotic birds have faded in
louder, clearer sounds:
pitter-patter of the tiny feet of my niece and nephew running through the house and growing bigger with each day I’m away,
the laughter of a blue-eyed Pirate,
chants of feathered Indian men, naked to the waist in the freezing dawn of
the New Year’s Turtle Dance, their shaking rattles,
the chalisas in the chamisa
I
Am
A trinity of loves
Leaving two,
I return to one.
My elastic heart
Expands
There is never too much love
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