God’s handmaiden, Ioana Andreea…

         Upon this day, a year ago

Three Lights I saw on me bestow

To sit and dwell upon my head,

As I felt Someone to have wed.

And as the psalm so well exclaimed,

With no family I have played,

Or made them see Holy Chrism

As the Seal of those who listen.

Thrice did I see me lying dead

And the third time, as it is said

My life began in the Great Book

As satan quaked and was forsook.

I danced with love upon that day,

The iconostasis arrayed

With Those that are dearest to me,

Whether in heaven or on sea.

“Isaiah dance!”, and so did I,

With not a question as to why

I am given this hallowed bliss -

I know what I want not to miss.

A white robe and a candle bright

Relinquished the hold of the night,

As my flame was kindled anew

For all the things I would hold true.

A splendid peace and flawless joy

Was for a while to enjoy,

Until the angel newly born

Managed to make grace flee forlorn.

Half an hour did I manage

Until I tarnished God’s image

In a most consistent fashion

By the vigour of my passion.

But the day is remembered yet

When at His table I first ate

That glowing ember that He brings

When as one heart the whole church rings.

                                                                                20 December 2010

For a love that lasted a single summer's day...

Well, here it is. All I'll say is 25 lines is 12 and 13 put together. Make of that what you will.

       Benjamin

We were both children – do you remember?

Much too young and with too hot a fire

In that day of August or September…

I loved you and you loved me – with desire,

With the wholeheartedness of childhood,

With a love that the years do not tire.

Do you still think of me in your manhood,

Recalling the time a fair-haired girl

For a short while in that clear pool stood?

I was the younger and waters did twirl

As I swam in the brightness of the sun,

My skin always the colour of pearl…

Therapeutically, the day was done:

You had come visit your ailing mother,

While I decided to have some fun.

You took me to the watery cloister

And there we just talked – about simple lives,

About astronomy and stars’ flicker,

About you and your childish pebble dives –

We were children on a fair summer’s day,

And we did not know the love that survives.

I later thought about having my way,

And of a blind search in your own city;

But can one so fragile have her say

For a love that lasted a single summer’s day?

                           18 December 2010

Phantasy

I do not care for the bright lights
Of the socialites,
But the bright glimmer of the stars
And the light of Mars.

I also want wind in my hair
And snow in the air,
On a bay palfrey riding fast
From the ancient past.

To sit with opals at my throat,
Sailing in a boat;
Diamond-gleam is in beauty hid,
Stars on my forehead.

Down the river to drift away,
Where the lilies sway
Amid the soothing of the breeze,
Mine heart giving ease.

All this wonder is not yet lost
Though winning be frost,
Wrapping with its hoary curls
This land of pearls.
                       2/3/9(?), 10, 15 December 2009, 31 January 2010

Again the fire

         The words burn on the page like flames -

Words that only a certain maiden tames,

For they are striking and wild,

As is your spirit, my green-eyed child.

I cannot let go of your face,

Or of the whispers of our last embrace,

When your breath kissed me on the hair,

And I thought my heart for this joy should tear.

But is this joy my own indeed?

For I have asked for something few do heed,

And fewer believe that my will

Is myself again bloodlessly to kill.

Can fire live where wind does dwell?

Or will your own breath my living flame quell,

As I often have done before,

Ere fascination grew to something more?

My dear people, these do believe:

There is more for ambition to achieve

In lighting the smothered fire

And calling back February desire. 
                                                                        15 December 2010

I really should be sleeping...

But instead I'm thinking and counting and that kind of stuff. 117 completed poems (less than I expected, frankly). Still have a cycle to finish (seven more poems to go), some works-in-progress, and some strewn about creations that I have to stumble upon and finish, I suppose.

I have wishes, and aspirations, and also, I have no idea what I'll do with my poems. I'm wasting a lot of time on them, for sure. But to what use? I wonder.

Did I mention it's actually snowing? I'm so excited. A huge and lovely surprise.

Always the wind, always your breath

         The wind blows this evening bright –

Always the wind, always your breath,

Lingering wind, ruffling light

My skirts and hair, gleaming so wet.

It started snowing – this snow

To me you brought on this evening,

When wrapped in winds high and low

I look for you and start singing.

Don’t keep me waiting longer –

Though the snow be finally falling

I long for you, and stronger

I am when I taste your breathing.

Your breath blows this evening dark:

The powdered stars strewn in the streets

Become so dreamily stark

When my fire your cold breath meets.

                                                                                     9 December 2010

People say one thing, I another...

It's been a while, I believe.

The day before yesterday was St Nicholas's feast. And there's the tradition of giving away gifts in sweets and fruit to children on this day (those whose boots are clean, preferably - those with neglected boots get a frosty twig instead.) Mind you, I'm no child... but I received several gifts from this saint on his feast day.

One, parintele put a recording of his acathist to play before Matins. And he that was reading the acathist was no other than Fr. Teofil, from the Cathedral. Yep, it felt very strange, being home AND in Cluj at the same time. But lovely nonetheless - best of both worlds, if you like.

Two, I got a carol concert at the Cathedral when I came back to Cluj. Lovely. The Theological Seminary Choir did the singing. They're great.

Three, someone came to the Divine Liturgy whom I had not expected to see - the principal gift of this merciful and loving saint. Something which I can never repay. But I'll let the poem tell more of what happened on Monday (most of it is autobiographical - the rest, my imagination running wild).

            Saint Nicholas’s gift

Wherefore this infinitely great surprise?

And what did you ask him to give?

I hope it was He keep you ever wise -

Else my heart erred not to misgive!

My dear brother, tell me you’ve not fallen!

You once said that you love to walk

With the brides of Christ - our future certain,

Though still sullied by thoughtless talk.

Tell me that you have not asked him for me!

Tell me that these are silly notions

Only coming because you did I see

Sudden bundle of emotions.

Your eyes grew great and amusingly round;

Now, don’t choke on anaphora,

Or sit making use of no hint of sound,

Like monks from a better era!

Again: you did not ask Saint Nicholas

For me to step down and once more

Enjoy the world through a pane of glass,

Wishing for the peaceful seashore?

You divined my secret and my yearnings,

I know well how discovery

Coupled itself with internal churnings

To reveal themselves by the Tree!

Brother, why did you so strangely

Look upon me the other day?

You should have known I would care so deeply

For this place where I found my way,

And that I would come to my only home

As often as that can be done;

How fortunate no longer all alone

To toil bearing my burden!

Would you really want as your wedded wife

A should-have-been bride of Christ?

Do you imagine the raw mess of life

When we both drank the Eucharist?

Are you truly willing from our Lord

(Whom we both serve) to steal what’s His,

Thus readily forfeiting your reward

And that of a daughter of Liz?

With downcast eyes come I, dearest brother,

And fall on my knees, thee to beg:

When your smile can bring any other,

Brother, don’t choose me, I beg!

For now I have thee as brother to me,

And the world upholdeth us,

And we uphold them by the silver sea,

Where our former lives ended thus. 
                                                                       7-8 December 2010