Author: miguel

Today I want to make an altar

from the beauty of this day

and offer it to her–

the one without a mask,

the one whose eyes are peonies,

the one who opens hearts like wings.

On this altar she’ll discover the

sliver of a new-born moon,

a violin that dreams of Barcelona,

three tulips floating in a bowl of tears,

a curl of smoke, one candle,

but no flame, a book of hymns

to Aphrodite and two towers on a hill

at dusk, above the sea.

She’ll find a mask made from hours

splintered from the clock,

a mask behind a mask,

of amber-colored leaves,

a brow, transparent as the sky,

a throat of feathers painted blue,

a hidden, restless heart that

dreams of seas and winds.

Today I make an altar

from the beauty of this day

and give it to the flower-eyed one,

the one who needs no masks,

as if it were a nest of clouds

in which two red birds sing.

© 2004 J.M. Keating

A procession of penitents

wanders like a column of

sleepwalkers into the town

where they’ve been told

the Benevolent One resides.

Sprinklers water tidy lawns

in front of synagogues and

banks, shopping malls,

a football stadium and

other places of worship.

A runty dog guides the

flock toward Paradise, but has

to run for its life when the pilgrims

find a cardboard sign taped

to the Benevolent One’s front door:

“Gone fishing,” it says;

“Back soon.”

© J.M.Keating 2013

In the gray light before dawn, raindrops

stutter on the roof as I lie alone in bed,

a blue blanket pulled up to my chin.

A sheet of rain hides the far shore of

the lake, but I can see an orange reflection

from the headlight of a motorcycle

shimmer on the road below the cottage.

Silver threads of rain slide down the

windows near the bed and two branches

of a maple tree bend and sway like

lovers, one above the other.

An angel could descend out of the windy

sky to tell me how immeasurably

perfect all this is, but I don’t need an angel

to remind me of what I know already.

I want to hear an angel tell me

about emptiness and silence. I want

to hear about the one who is not here.

© 2011 J.M.Keating