Her Nursery Rhyme


I dreamt of the woman last night
The old lady of the piano
And she sang me her nursery rhyme
A message of wild, ragged, glory
The pin points of light formed a desert
A bright wasteland holding back the dark
Perfumed with the smoke of history's war planes
Crashed and burning in their white and grey ash
The ceremony continued with spectacle
I felt as though there was water rippling to my waist
My imagination conjured elephants
Wading, slouching, coursing through their delta
The windows were closed to the shadows all iced
We struggle with images that sit and shift behind us
Like we are unsteady with Love and Loneliness and Liberty
And stones that circle fire will reveal beast and bird in flame
The oldest voice, it wailed down at me
Singing of the brass statues of the naked gods
Holding their Leopard skins and spears
Hewn so masterfully
The old lady she sang at me
With words that were etched into the bells of freedom
She spoke softly the phrases that were dressed in words of native fire
I could hear her contentment and her confidence mix with her femininity
Just for me
Sitting there, counselling my shaking dream
Her back to the exit of the cave
No thoughts of crucifixion grappling with her hope
I dreamt of this old lady
In borrowed dress and lipstick the colour of Canada
Throwing the reflections off the invisible mirror
Continually making the world spin with every tap of her toe
For me
Just for me









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