Poem: Thank you, Ovid

Thank you, Ovid

The seer prophesied long years and ripe old age
But only if he never knew himself:
Never looked into still or stormy waters,
Never gazed on his own beauty
Or stared into his shame.

Is what you perceive only the
Shadow of reflected form:
Nothing of you is in it?

No, friends, these smiling eyes
Are not a shadow.
You are seeing Love reflected.

I sense it and
I am not deceived
By my truest image.

What I have,
I want.

Listen to Echo’s response:
What is mine
Is yours.


-- meganthemegan 2/20/2007

Poem: Winter Garden

Winter Garden

Taken as a whole,
The garden is disheveled --
Decay everywhere,
Branches broken,
Leaves yellow with frostbite,
Plants dead after too many icy nights.

Yet my eyes search out and find
The green shoots,
The new flowers in defiant spring color,
The summer blossoms that refused to give up.

Are they offering forgiveness
For not having cleaned up the leaves when they fell,
For not having given the limbs some support,
For not having protected what was fragile?

Will the colors still shimmering in my heart
Remind me only of what I failed to do

Or will they offer me
That same forgiveness?

-- meganthemegan 2/11/2007