Medium.com has published my “Writers of the Imperfect Maps” in the Blue Insights publication.
https://medium.com/blueinsight/writers-of-the-imperfect-maps-276a2ce16869
The naiads have splurged with roses.
Swirls of scented air hover above their clearings.
Without petals and stars they cannot dwell
beneath the glass shine…
Day dreamers see their unfading beauty
in the sands of the fountains.
Their love is
imprecise
built on a foundation
of unicorn-green grass…
Their skeleton
is composed of myrtle and oleander
and moss-covered lungs
heave along with waters driven
by tide…
Their flesh is irrational atoms
that laugh the blood
and rhythm of life
in the veins
that sing the helplessness blues.
White hymnal doors
flung open
on Midsummer’s Eve
at the harvest of ripe and lofty words
and lady’s bedstraw
they found
in the flicker of buried treasures.
Their words shield
the scent of a tuberose
and shelter
the spoils of the evening.
They sing in the wind
“Leave this war with me!”
It is never too late
nor too soon
to wager
on a tear.
These are no Great Songs of indifference
They are the Great Songs of out-of-time
and out-of-life
that light
this new dominion
which is the old…
29 petals of all the flowers
in the world
line up to write a map
draw sounds and borders
in as many secret alphabets
as breathing proof that
Language is not like the sun,
heating and scorching
but like the moon
keeping secrets
and the arcane magic of the night
throwing stars
in the lilacs’ claws
till dawn.
Words are lamps
they shimmer in the vilest of places.
They make dreams
out of particles and matter.
The words in the
29 secret alphabets
burn for all.
© Iulia Halatz
Lilian Gish, 1929 — photo by Cecil Beaton
