by David Vela
Spring comes hard with alacrity, whether we like it or not.
You came as hard on me with grace and tender touch
Of maternal care that burned into passion and bloomed
Bright red, orangefire, white, gold, then rosegray.
Your classic pose of leg over leg, left over right
From that time you kissed me when I was twenty-two
And you ripe, full-blossomed woman of twenty-six,
Stays with me even in dreams of you sad,
Even as you repeated that pose last year at the roses that mirrored
Your beauty when Death and Eros, twins at birth
Visited us, made us whole, each one healing
The other, tutelary deities, ancestors, overseeing us
In my mother’s bed, in my mother’s room, you on her side
I on my father’s, we asleep after lovemaking, my hand in your
Hand, arm draped over your head, our hands over your heart.
And my heart all yours.
Though most of that time we had was bright, the happiest
Of my life, fue - was so short-lived but so few so much
Will ever live a passion so full - we knew, know, and I like
Orpheus lament this so; The snake who took you, bit your heel
Was your mother, your conscience, your daughters, your
Sister, your niece, your nephew and your past. The light
You brought me was greater than any other, Tantric, ancient
De los ancestros y del más allá, fulfilling, bright, dwarfing
Any other erotic love, wrapping mother, sister, prima
Amada, esposa, bruja, creadora y destructora all in one.
David Vela, born and raised in Las Vegas, Nevada, now resides in Northern California where he writes poetry, short stories, book reviews and interpretive essays of literary criticism. David has taught in Paris where he researched and lectured on the Modern Intellectual and did research at the Institut du Monde Arabe. He taught for 22 years in the English Department at Diablo Valley College and previously at Dominican University, both in the San Francisco Bay Area. He has been a military veteran advocate throughout his professional career as teacher and writer. His two manuscripts, Irish Literary Influence on Jorge Luis Borges, and al-Andalus: What we inherit from Muslim and Jewish Spain in Jorge Luis Borges’ and Carlos Fuentes’ writing merge his interest in Latin America, Spain and Ireland.