Gene Berson

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New Age Retreat 

I sit on warm rock shivering from my swim
dragonfly chewing, rainbowing wing being
worked into its mouth, marvelous
orange and brown markings, fierce
facemasque, eyes and straightbody:
I’ve yet to see it miss,
barely see gnats it eats.

Rivulets intricately seep
through rocks I swim under --
a loudly echoing dripping chamber,
gradually my eyes adjust: above --
a spider, beautifully
and lethally still,
its legs aligned to distinguish movement of a fly
until its death
from poking twig testing:
godlike patience.
More and more living things: my head is enormous
everywhere I look there is life and deadly purpose beyond joy.

Against this backdrop affectionate
laughter is a cultural accomplishment.

Copyright (C) Gene Berson, 2006. All rights reserved.

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