Surrender
On her lens a pair of wild weeds swayed from a rock
by the edge of the lake blooming tips brushing as if in light kisses
a moving oneness that flashed at me.
On the scrabble board back home I set the letter “s” for “surrender”.
“Tell me how,” she had asked. My answer, like waves folding
onto each other these:
The way flowers let the wind play on weakness touching but not breaking
a kind of touch that instructs bees on gentleness—a kiss that leaves no mark—
that glues the heart, the way the mind pulls threads off words
let gather from winds bowers of leaves a nest for globules of light.
Name the globules love the way wind blows out the light the way darkness
kneads itself to make love real, the way night lets the wind sought
a kind of song that shreds the light, clouds the heart the way the
wind tempts the dawn. Grit not tears fractures sight the way the wind lets dust
ride, whispering words the way some words run into verses to crack the bolts
that quarantine lovers unleashing them to surrender to flee to bloom, the
way the weed pair lets the wind swing lash at them, the way they flex together
how like love could stay possible where it isn’t, musn’t.
(First published in Many Windows, 2011 Magnapoets Anthology Series 4,
Edited by Aurora Antonovic)
© 2022 Alegria Imperial
A former journalist in the Philippines, Alegria graduated with a degree of Literature in Journalism. Her discovery of haiku decades later, started her writing short Japanese poetry forms. Her works have since been widely published in international journals and anthologies with some gaining awards. Her three e-chapbook collections of contemporary haiku and monoku (one-line) poems can be accessed at The Haiku Foundation’s Digital Library. She immigrated to Canada 14 years ago, where she now lives.
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