Dreams in Winter, by Susan Puciul

dreams in winter by Susan Puciul

"what was told to the rose that made it open...."  rumi

bee,

sworn to secrecy,

tell not

the 

charms 

of the

rose

no sign

of you

in winter

yet you are no

fairweather friend

but friend

with blood of white

abiding

summer's light

now sustained

by nectar swaddled

dreams stored

dreams 

of journey

into the velvet fold

the brilliant shadow

suffused in crimson

deepening

scent rising

as you maze your way

closer

did she long for your visit?

did she hear

the wing music

in the scarlet echo

as you wend your way

closer to her very heart

busy

when sun soaks

the summer air

now, with equal zeal,

you hush

and wait

with the passion 

of monks

in the halted halo

of the hive

alive with 

saving quiver

so. wait.

suspended in the holy work

wait

for the thrum

for the dance

for that inmost shimmer

of golden light

now, in silver time,

trust

in the necessity

of longing 

met

across 

this brittle expanse 

of field

Susan Puciul has a degree in English, and has taken workshops with Stanley Burnshaw, Judith Neeld and Myrna Patterson. She believes "all poetry begins in the body," so, to help stir her muse, Susan has danced with Vineyard Dance and presently with What's Written Within. She is a member of The Cleveland House Poets, and lives with her family in Chilmark.