1960's

Thread of Life

We pass the thread of life
From generation to generation
Offering up our souls to an indifferent eternity ,
Constantly turning to look back
Then facing this hour
In a rededication of ourselves.

The Darkness of Your Day

The rushing of the wind
Through the mind's eye, the sky
When light we cannot see
Comes and touches, such is
The darkness of your day
The un-sensing calm
Of the prest, the rest
Of numbed fear and the pre-stilled tear.

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It was one of those nights when the sailing
Is very clear and i knew i wanted to go
Below into the sea ; not calm but completely
Windless.

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this place
another world seen bare
from the road of so many worlds
among which i sit
and where i am
worldless.

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when we have seen the choice
it has already been made
spreading joyous or
alone in a hundred cities
i will ride this wave to the land
it promises to reach.

We Rose Trembling

We rose trembling thru your water
Emerged and saw the land green
Sparkling as wet seaweed
Spotted with roaming life
Barns on your chest
Soft red flesh flecked with with hooves
You cannot be mine
But through your forests
i smelled fresh grasses.

There are fields in Texas
Yellow like Van Gogh
There for a moment i thought i had found my home.

Breathing Regularly

Careful so as not to disturb the stillness of an extended moment
Life was spreading out before me ;
A path through a garden
Tier on tier of experience
Tangled bushes from which roses emerge.
To look out on an even, gliding expanse of
Awareness above the sun-soaked lawn
Where each clump of somnolent grass envelopes
One mind in one thought :
The clean multiplicity of painless comprehension
Huge in its motionless extension.
.
An ocean of dew in a sparkling takes the eye
And loses it in the wonder of the sight.

As Night Descends

A distant fence squeaks in the wind
From across the border
A boat whistles into the wind
This is an evening lonely a childhood's
But the moments' enchantment is gone
For the deserted land I wander now
Stretches past friends and as night descends
Into a shudder.

The Sun Is Rising On Me

Alone in a bed
In Mexico City my illusion of security has disappeared.
There is only the light entering the tiny window -
Perhaps this is from a street lamp -
I close my eyes and it does not matter.

© Copyright, 2006, Mary Barnet.
All right reserved. Reprinted by permission