You will always be a myth weaver
with coal-black eyes who sings to me
across the years of gypsies on shadowed roads,
of velvet dark, of orchid dreams,
of girls at night who wait downstream,
windows open wide for men on horseback
making their way down rocky slopes.
But the riders have fallen–
their underwater faces
waver in moonlight cisterns,
their arms like lilies glow under silver beams.
If I could hold your hand across the years,
lift you from the rivers where you wept,
I’d draw you to my chest,
wipe the tears you shed
for all the lovers
who slept before their time
on earth was due to end,
for children who died before
they learned the dance,
for men who were the darlings
of other men,
for Spirits of the Wind
who tore away the chokehold
of the trance.
The stars began to fade
the night you died–
shot in a cave, tossed in a grave.
Now your words of passion
shine for you instead.
*This title is in reference to Federico García Lorca’s poem, Llanto por Ignacio Sánchez Mejías.
I first wrote this poem as a sonnet:
Lament for Federico Garcia Lorca
Garcia Lorca’s lambent words release
their light across the years – his gypsy songs,
laments for dying heroes now at peace
in moonlight cisterns shadowed all night long.
If I could hold his hand across the years,
and lift him from the rivers where he wept,
I’d draw him to my heart and wipe the tears
he shed for all the lovers who have slept
before their time on earth was due to end,
for children who were born to those who danced,
for men who were the darlings of their men,
for those who broke the chokehold of the trance.
The stars began to fade the night he bled–
his words of passion shine for him instead.
***
The prompt this week at Read Write Poem is to break the rules. I took what I liked from the sonnet, and rearranged the lines to suit the spirit of the poem. Lot’s of rule smashing going on here!
Balanced On the Edge 
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