Proteus
Your beauty is the beauty of the clouds:
as grand and graceful, as remote,
from silver changing into gold,
and changing shape, and changing whereabouts.
Your beauty is the one of Proteus:
I’m bound to watch it swirl and stay,
afraid your heart will likewise sway,
innocuous and gay and treacherous.
Your beauty is the one of Morpheus:
I’m bound to drink it in a dream,
afraid of stumbling on that stream,
with ghostly flowers studded, murderous.
Your beauty is the beauty of the clouds.
your ever-present smile the gleam
behind their soft and tousled seam…
Your soul is what your face reveals and shrouds.
Christina Egan © 2012
—
Daedalus
I watch the condor pass:
lofty and lonely,
steady and strong,
improbable like Daedalus…
I watch the condor pass
and want to follow him
across the barren peaks –
I want to touch the clouds…
Christina Egan © 2012
Christina Egan 