SINCE

Since the sign
of silence
signaled immortality
in a spiraling portion
of awesome wisdom
we were caught up
in the freedom of green guitars
on the sailboat vessel
caught between sun showers,
since I do not wake up
without a poem and music
of six strings in my spirit
by the shady purple trellis
dreaming of a changed season
in a foreign language
and am granted to sit
under the juniper on a July dawn
despite the heaviness
of the heat I consume an orange
reading Hart Crane, Frost
and Emily Dickinson
drinking in the singing carols
feeding the wrens on the branches
whose mouths taste
my bread on the waters
as swans wander under waves
along the hide tide off shore
off the Cape,
since I'm under an umbrella
of a hot sun
you provide me with shade
of my kingdom's spirit
knowing the poet's silk
restores the kinsman's wisdom
of bardic ancient mariners
in the island home harbors
of all who are exiled
or coming the the shore
like the faithful birds
of Capistrano wishing
for a respite of bread and water
and cold milk
resting on the virtuosity
as a daughter from Spanish airs
of my Sephardic ancestors
on my grandmother's side
who came to America
as a young bride
eating dates and figs
under the wispy canopy breeze
on white curtain lace
to take a lottery chance
after the long ceremony
as a witness to Jacob's God
to accompany the ancient chants
at rivers of peace and grace
as my laughter's ink dreams
increases colors
upon an afternoon portrait
along the Pyrenees in the snow
with fleeing refugees
of Picasso moving to France
the willing angels ask
only to sit by the carob
near the hyacinth trees
since the sound of silence
explodes in a new world.