A Stranger...
By Ekiwah Adler Beléndez

I found my self at a crossroads
knowing another poem
had tapped me on the shoulder,
a drunk asking for money.

The Muse looked at me
with emerald green eyes,
her scarlet dress,
and the red quetzal that sings inside her,
easily seduced me
to satisfy her whims.

But what road should I take?
Here I am trying to find the right words

Should I say:

I give my words to the wolves
so that like lambs
they are devoured.

Or should I be sweeter:

Oh! beloved mist
cloud my vision again
with mysteries.

Should I indulge in my despair:

This silence is massive,
a mountain closing in on me.

What spell of words will I cast now?

Might I be tempted:

Let us break the rules,
my hair, your hair
entangled like weeds.

Let us be animals.

Should I stay still?
No, I shall be a stranger
coming into the country
for the first time,
the Muse by my side
clinging to me jealously.

Comments

How true and profound of all of us walking through a forrest of suffering carrying our pain and searching for lightness.

- Ludi Marshall
Branchburg, NJ