This poem, originally published in my 1994 collection, Dark Song: Fantasies in Twilight (now out of print), was republished in Soul Songs from Distant ShoresI do a reading of the poem here, for those who are interested in hearing it performed. Eurydice

Death is certain for the born. Rebirth is certain for the dead. You should not grieve for what is unavoidable.

-- the Bhagavad-Gita

wandering among the stones lost within myself i try to retrace those footsteps that led me into this granite garden far from you

voices tear through my consciousness, weeping, beseeching, calling my name

but i do not wish to answer i do not wish to let go

there is music in the distance a song as familiar as your caress

i find myself amid the goblin market temptation upon temptation heaped up on plates brilliant with the heavy glint of gold

i shall wait i shall not betray my memory of you those opulent hours we spent in the splendor of the sun

i recall the story sung of mournful Kore but one pomengranate seed and i will be undone

seeking something lost i find only myself Eurydice huddled weeping in the eldritch embrace of silver birch and whitethorn

have i ever known any other arms that held me with such strength, such understanding?

there was something but i've forgotten what here where the light of the gravid moon soothes stark granite and marble into cool, pure silver and flesh melts away into brilliant, unburdened bones

naked i spin atop an obelisk reaching into the sky and eating stars like candied dates

there was something but i'm free of it now the trees teach me what it is like to shed leaves endlessly easily as the seasons command

there is nothing but myself and the understanding that a seed must fall to the ground and be buried before it can aspire to oak

-- M. Belanger