I give to you this life – December 2021

From War Cry on a Prayer Feather, 1979, by Nancy Wood

 

I give to you this life

which is not the only life I have.

I am the forest living and dying.

I am the melancholy of falling leaves.

I am eternity in green.

I am water flowing strongly

Not in the lifetime of one man only

But down the rocks of generation

Across old deserts of humiliation

I run in anticipation toward the sea.

I give to you this life

which is the outer garment only.

I have clothed myself in riches

Sewn by hands in praise of home.

I am made of pollen and wings and bone.

I am wind reflected in moonlight.

I am ice crying out for food.

I am fire embedded in stone.

I am fields released by sun.

I give to you this life

claimed by what I do not own.

 

How the Universe Doubled – November 2021

From Sacred Fire, 1998, by Nancy Wood

 

The doubling of the Universe took place when people

were sleeping, except for a few old women

who remembered how passion was created

to save the world from boredom. In dresses

made of spiderwebs, those old women

 

Sang a love song, heard from star to star and tree to tree,

even from fish to fish and blossom to bee.

Those who were in tune with one another

responded, and those who were not

slept their lives away. As the old women

 

Watched, the heat of love expanded, on and on, with colors

so bright they singed the edge of indifference

in one night. The Universe doubled

with the passion of those old women,

who believed the power of their feminine selves

would overcome

the doubtful hearts of men.

Wild Love – October 2021

From Wild Love, 1996, by Nancy Wood (unpublished)

 

When people look at us they see

an ordinary couple edging past their prime,

not beautiful, but slack with having hoarded time.

You with your look of contentment and me

with the eyes of  a woman permanently in love

are construed as complacency by most. We are called

respectable, dependable, unremarkable. And so we live

beneath a cloak of mild deception, laughing to ourselves.

 

No one knows that behind closed doors

you and I become young again through the magic

of desire and in our bed we make wild love

until we greet the sun. Wild love is a secret love,

the kind that ordinary couples must preserve

to keep the outside world from coming in.