Autobiography, Poetry

THE PASSION OF THE FLICKER

Dedicated to my grandchildren, RUBY and AVA DRAHO-ZUCKERMAN

Never be afraid of the flicker

of life in your breast.

Try to swallow with joy

every moment of the nectar flow

like the phototaxic moth,

the growling mountain lion,

the pastoral blade of grass

with its chlorophyll facing the giving sun.

 

Be in awe of the hemorrhagic plunge

of the dentiginous great white

and the rapacious appetite

of the locust swarm.

 

At 79, I still am rallied to the heights of passion

by startlingly awakening from my dream’s death moment

struggling to understand what was dream and what “reality”

at Pamela’s argumentatively arousing eroticism,

at being seized by desire

to duplicate the violent artistry

of the virtuoso pianist playing

Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition,”

at wanting to follow the wild dolphin

surfacing and diving in controlled rhythms

as he recedes into his amniotic sea,

at Aquarius’s ageless comfort

in the star-filled evening canopy

or to dance away consciousness

in the mesmerizing aura of djembe drum rhythms.

 

 

Do you know your moment?

your flickering flame?

Light up the universe

and then go dark.

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