Sunday 5 May 2013

3 Poems by Mary Elizabeth Gillilan


At the end of the day when
I brush the dog and wash the coffee pot

the quiet comes
om mani padme hum

the time to walk outside
to stare into the haloed moon

the bells on the neighbor’s porch
sing out to gods and worms alike.


I hear the wind
    the low soft mother breeze
croon the tree animals
    to sleep

Under stars and melon-slice moon
    I curl inside a feather-down robe
the light from my window
    a lantern

Prayer flag verse—thoughts
    afloat and dreams tease
as the song breeze
    carries me away


The monk sits with me
on a rock above
the confluence of rivers

Diamond scaled fish
with emerald eyes
light the water

Fishers with nets of  
of silver and gold
glimmer in moonlight

I ask, here in this pool the fishers
net the fish only to die?

No, the monk laughs, this
is how fish become stars


From Bellingham, Washington, Mary Elizabeth Gillilan organized the Independent Writers’ Studio in 2009 where she leads writers’ groups and edits Clover, A Literary Rag.   Her recent publishing credits include: The Far Field, Washington state poet laureate Kathleen Flenniken’s blog; Breath and Shadow, and a chapbook published by the Independent Writers’ Studio called After Oz.

1 comment:

  1. thank you for posting these. I will revisit to aquaint myself with your posts, past and future.