faces

young honey

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

young honey

I.

the light lengthens
between blossom
and snow and
blossom

i taste hope
like young honey
drop by
drop

i want to drink
my fill
from the white wine
of your voice

i want to eat
my fill
from the fruit-bread
of your presence

II.

no spring day
bubbling over
fills the cup
of my heart

no full moon
flooding silver
cools the fire
of my hands

a face needs
the shiny mirror
of a face
in the night

i wait for
the morning
i wait more
than the watchman

Christina Egan ©2021

Showers (Haiku)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Showers

*

Snow

A thousand snow-flakes,
sent from the moon to the lake
like little kisses.

*

Rain

The rain is dancing
on the skylight through the night.
We are wrapped in sleep.

*

Blossom

The cherry blossom
of your face on the pillow,
scented, resplendent.

*

Christina Egan ©2002

Raindrops on window, with pink flowers showing in the lens of each drop.
Raindrops on window, with flowers showing in each drop.
Photograph by Kumiko Shimizu on Unsplash.

One Drop of Rain

If one still drop of rain contains a rose
and if my eye encompasses your face,
a secret crystal must exist that holds
the sparkling galaxy in one round space.

Christina Egan ©2024

The breathtaking photograph I found as an illustration
for the haiku inspired another poem many years later!

I Do Not Ask for Love / A Thousand Leaves

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

I Do Not Ask for Love

I do not ask for love,
for I have none to give –
and yet I beg for life,
for leave to make you live,

to live as if the day
were fitting like a glove,
to breathe as if to pray
to beauty were enough,

to tremble as if time
had finished or begun,
to let two faces shine
as if two hearts were one.

I do not ask for words
of last or lasting love,
I cannot offer worlds –
one kiss shall be enough.

Christina Egan ©2006

Maple leaf, close-up, flaming golden and orange against dull background.

A Thousand Leaves

A thousand leaves in brownish bronze,
a thousand leaves thrust by the wind,
a rustling sea… a jostling crowd…
And then, with sudden sunset glint,
with guileless smile, one reaches out.

Christina Egan ©2010

Sycamore leaf. Photograph: Christina Egan ©2020.

I am Singing my Song

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

I am Singing my Song

Jug in shiny bright colours (yellow, red, blue, black) in front of yellow cloth..

My life is not about me:
It is about the mountains
rising all around the horizon
in the dense blue of dreams.
It is about the mud I am made of,
the little trees which I must water,
the tall trees which give me breath.
It is about the rivers around me,
running, running without rest
and singing without doubt.

My face is priceless:
My face is mine alone, and
an echo of my ancestors’ faces,
a signal of my descendants’ faces.
My face is a sacred lake,
a blurred mirror of the sky,
of the mountains and trees.
I am drinking the sun,
I am walking my way,
I am singing my song.

Christina Egan ©2022

Inspired by Navajo and other
Native American philosophy.

Navajo pottery. Photograph:
Woody Hibbard, CC BY 2.0,
via Wikimedia Commons.

Word cloud in green, red, blue, black on yellow. Words in the middle: singing, about, face, song, trees.
Word cloud in green, red, blue, black on yellow. Words in the middle: singing, about, face, song, trees.
Word cloud in green, red, blue, black on yellow, simply typed up as a square.

Three word clouds of this poem: one typed up on a Word document with all repetitions, two designed on the Simple Word Cloud Generator (left) and WordItOut (right), with the frequency of the words represented by their size and position. (You can click on the images to enlarge them.)

Via WordItOut, you can order badges or key-rings with the right-hand word cloud.

Ich freue mich

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Ich freue mich

Ich freue mich, daß ich geboren bin
zu Morgendämmerung und Abendrot;
ich sage Dank, daß ich erkoren bin
zu nächtlichem Gesang und Mittagslob.

Ich freue mich, daß durch den Vogelruf
das Paradies in unser Schweigen dringt
und oft aus einem alterslosen Buch
ein Sinn in unsre schweren Augen springt.

Ich schaue auf und staune jeden Tag,
daß mich der Himmelsherr mit Namen rief,
noch eh’ es Engel oder Erde gab,
noch eh’ ich still im Mutterleibe schlief.

Ich freue mich, daß durch das Angesicht
des einen Menschen Gott den andern liebt,
wie Sonnenlicht durch bunte Fenster bricht.
Ich freue mich, daß es die Freude gibt.

Christina Egan ©2021

Two heavy black wooden doors in a white brick wall, with inscriptions as below.
“House of the Three Wise Men” and “House Jesus, Mary, Joseph” at a former Beguinage,
a kind of convent, in Ghent (Klein Begijnhof). Photograph: Christina Egan ©2018.

Written upon the passing of a good friend who had been a nun for 40 years.
Also written for her on the topic of joy through faith and prayer: Die vierte Frucht.

This Is (Your Face, Lit up)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

This Is

Your face, lit up,
perhaps, by me,
eclipses morning star and moon –
one word from you,
or more, maybe,
would freeze the clock at burning noon.

Don’t stop your step,
don’t hold your breath,
don’t soothe yourself it is too soon:
this is the life
as strong as death
that you have craved for. Let it bloom.

Christina Egan © 2004

your face of snow

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

your face of snow 

your face of snow
your eyes of ice
will blur and melt
with sweet surprise
your cheeks of dawn
of smooth white stone
will blush and throb
with flames unknown

your lips of pearl
encasing dreams
will blink and burst
with bright new beams

your face of snow
your eyes of ice
will bloom and burn
a rainbow’s rise

Christina Egan © 2004

 

A story where nothing ever happened

The greeting in your eyes, radiant.
The answer in your eyes, immediate.
The longing in your eyes, innocent.
The promise in your eyes, infinite.

Christina Egan © 2004

 

Glass flask by Eugenes, found in Syria, 3rd c. AD.
Photograph: © The Trustees of the British Museum.

frau (außen und innen)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

frau

außen und
innen
ganz
frau

lebe ich
rund
träume ich
dunkel und
bunt
denke ich
durchdringend

ruhe ich
in mir
rufe ich
mein du
runde ich mich
um mein kind

gebäre ich
mein gedicht
berge ich
mein gebet

auch mein gesicht
ist lehm und
licht
ist ebenbild

Christina Egan © 1990

Detail of woman, with her body, clothes, and jewellery describing curves.

 

My early vision of my identity as a woman holds: centred around marriage and motherhood as well as thought and art, different from a man but absolutely equal — created from the same clay, not from a rib, and from the same spirit!

The central image is the round shape: this person is somehow round, gentle; she is rounded, balanced; bending herself around other things and other people in a natural impulse. Only her thoughts can be straight and piercing!

 

Jewellery from Lanzarote, made of lava, olivine, lapis lazuli. Photograph: Christina Egan © 2017.

Window Seat

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Window Seat

You beat me to the window seat,
Silhouette of man against tall window with curtains.the secret poets’ nest;
you watched the broad and busy street,
a highway on your quest.

You beat me to the poets’ prize,
without a rhyme or form:
you saw the faces floating by
in the approaching storm,

you caught the litter and the leaves,
the puddles and the birds
and strung them as bizarre bright beads
on your vibrating verse.

Christina Egan © 2019

The poem has its origin in a coffee bar in a busy high street in London. It was published in the Tottenham Community Press (print issue of December 2018).

The elusive poet in a window seat. Photograph: Christina Egan © 2017.