Sunday, 14 May 2023

Four Poems by Lark Beltran

 



Ylang-Ylang

 

Barely there,

like the fuzzy edge

of a dream ...

chasing the echo,

 

soothing as a streamwade

in Death Valley,

or a mother's embrace

after cold shoulders,

 

its filigree

olfactory lullaby

whispers "hey now,

it'll be all right."

 

Some fragrances

draw smiles

while releasing inner tears.

Ylang-Ylang is one.

 

 

All I Have Never Seen

 

All I have never seen,

locked in the long-ago ...

young ocean's trilobites

wilderness clear of man

Stonehenge in ceremony

Petra, its pinkness new

lost gold of Inca legend

clipper ship's regal stride ...

How I could ramble on!

 

All there is still to see ...

aurora's rainbow curtains

moon overhanging hills

galaxies' bling on black

waterfalls glimpsed through green

tower thrust into sunset ...

Though countless beauties linger,

why do I often feel

as if the best had gone?

 

 

Fantasia   

(previously published in Moon-Drenched Fables, in 2009)

 

Paradise, Eden and Shangri-La

Blessed Isles and Avalon and Valhalla

Xanudu, Elysium, Utopia

Neverland and Middle Earth and Narnia ...

 

Happy Hunting Grounds and El Dorado,

distant as the moon or close as Colorado -

humanity harbours its greatest bliss

when some ideal world shines through in this.

 

How the fancy glides to fog-enshrouded wonders -

Camelot kingdoms -, for their beauty hungers.

In lost-world plateau, horizon dim and azure,

in mystic wooded glen, our dreams are wont to gather.

 

Xanudu, Elysium, Utopia

Blessed Isles and Avalon, etcetera ...

Amid sophistication's plethora

one yearns to find a Neverland or Narnia.

 

 

Watching The Line

 

I'm nobirdy special,

but I wouldn't belong to their species

for all the corn in pigeondom.

They need too much,

They worry too much,

and they can't even fly.

Look at the line of them now -

the same creatures that, month after month,

wait, sweaty and fanning themselves in the heat,

until they can get inside that building they call banco

which dispenses the small rectangular papers they cherish.

Seems that, unlike us,

without those papers they can't get any food.

We can cool off easily enough

by winging to the shady precincts

of the gardens around San Francisco Church,

but they have no such freedom.

So alone or with mates, there they wait,

and mostly ignore us, despite our numbers,

for being just common, messy birds,

 

but one among them loves us

(and I like to think, especially me,

because I'm lame, and because my chest-feathers

boast more than the usual iridescence.)

She's my favourite human, actually,

and I'm getting almost brave enough to eat from her hand.

Whatever her worries are,

she always brings us a bag of crumbs.

Last month I think she lost

her mate, as she came alone, in black,

her eyes reddened.  He was more

folded than she and walked with a stick.

The two of them would enter the church

afterpickingup their little papers; probably

they talked with God.  He talks to me

sometimes when I'm high above

the street-hubbub, and I coo back at Him.

It's peaceful to watch the clouds

and ponder his whereabouts and wingspan ...

But I digress.  This lady who throws crumbs

has been so good to me

that I wanted to give her something today -

the shiny yellow thing

kept hidden on a ledge inside

the latticed wooden ceiling of a dome.

My ancestor found this object

uncountable pigeonspans ago,

when vehicles were tall and square

and pulled by horses.

A lady wearing a white mantilla

dropped it in the street, the story goes,

while descending from one such vehicle,

and my plucky forebird snatched it up

before another could spy it.

 

It's so pretty, especially in sunlight,

and as humans even now

enjoy wearing similar baubles,

I think she might like it -

might even feel honoured to keep it

because it was once mine.

Yes, I'll drop it

right into her hand so there's no mistake,

when she appears ... any minute now.

I'll just keep watching the line.

 

Lark Beltran, originally from California, has lived in Lima, Peru for many years as an ESL teacher.  Over the decades, many of Lark's poems have appeared in online and offline journals.

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