Did We Say Yes?

I am the flesh that bore your soul

the smile you saw when first

your tiny eyes adjusted to the light

outside my womb.

Who are we, the two of us

so blessed to be given a chance to love

and this game of life to share together?

Was it a lottery of some kind the angels drew

above the clouds or a puzzle

that our two pieces made complete?

Did we each say yes, when asked the questions . . .

"Are you ready to suffer for someone else?

Do you know what it means to love until you die?"

We must have nodded or whispered

quite unsure, yet willing to smash through the cosmos

and land here in this tiny speck of earth together

mother and child.

.

I know, for me, it was by far

the brightest moment of my existence

and none since then could ever compare

to the moment I felt you alive inside

and knew that you were mine.

Joanne Cucinello    2013

We Too

They look down at us from above

angels

white winged glorious beings

seeing mostly

the tops of our heads

like push pins

multicolored against the earth

walking, running, and some

still trying to fly

trying to believe that Yes,

we too had wings once

that we too

could sit at the foot of God's throne

and gaze into Ecstasy.

 Joanne Cucinello  2013

Hidden

Layers crust the earth and rocks

hiding what the chisel knows.

Time marks trees with circled rings

the proof of their existence.

We dig and chip away

hoping we will find somewhere

in the root of our beginnings . . .

that moment

that one glorious moment

when the first Being stood and

shouted to the stars . . ."Aha"!!

and knew that there was more.

We will not find that moment

in our diggings anywhere,

nor in any rock or tree recorded 

No . . .

that sound,

that first illumination

did not plant itself beneath his feet.

It traveled, racing

through the stars of the great night sky

straight across the heavens

and there it found   

beyond the darkness waiting . . .

the wild expectant heart of God.

Joanne Cucinello  2010

A Moment of Reckoning

It was well after dinner and a few Merlots

when I decided to stretch out on the rug.

My nine year old Shih Tzu, Max, had denied

my most wonderful offering of human food,

Pot Roast and Mashed Potatoes.

He went ape over it last night

when we had guests for dinner

but tonight I was cooking up

something else and he did not want to eat

luscious leftovers, even though any other

animal would have devoured them.

When he does this "rejecting thing" with me

I must admit . . . I DO become the animal

I say things I cannot repeat but

harbor in my sorrowful Dog Mother heart

So I lay there on the carpet

deep breathing and telling myself

Max is not a human, I can't give in!

And then he comes to me with his white fluff 

fluffing and his big brown eyes all full of fun

rolling and pressing his head on mine

wagging his tail, hopping away and then

rushing back to nibble my ears

panting wildly

and I surrender once again

to this little creature who must have been

human once , I'm sure . . . but not now!

And I remember how brief his life will be

and it is I who must give into

this moment of reckoning and meet him

halfway barking and wagging on the bridge. 

Joanne Cucinello ©2013

Spirit Child

She dances sometimes

on my ceiling

in graceful swirls of ivory lace,

brushing by with wistful wings.

Childlike, hushed and innocent

she stirs my heart awake.

Such beauty!

How can this be?

She bears the face of an angel

a sweet cherub

captured by moonbeams

floating through my window.

I lay here watching

awed and silent

graced by

this gossamer being

caught in my world.

Why does she pass my way? 

Stardust falls from her hair

and I am spellbound

as she turns wide-eyed, angelic

pausing,

searching for something

 . . . someone.

In hushed amazement, I watch as she gazes at me

who cannot speak, nor reach to touch.

Can it be that I’m the one she’s looking for?

I, who am not ready yet . . . to cross the borders of eternity?

Joanne Cucinello   2007

Have You Seen It?

There is a new light beaming

across the surface of the earth

Have you seen it?

Nothing like it has settled in the

clouds before . .  calmly waiting

all the thoughts  and consciousness

of those who've lived before

and walked this earth in blindness

have begun to settle in this light

this aura of the great Divine

Oh, how we have longed for it

this moment in time

when all the strings of the Giant Web

will soon be cut and folded into

one Cosmic Golden Envelope

soon to be delivered . . . our Ransom

purified in the fires of want

and desperation, the crystal waters of hope

and forgiveness, the winds of change and

deliverance, and the soil of Adam's rib.

We are Children of the New Earth

those promised to the Stars

our Ancient Brothers.

We shall carry their light that is dimming

and become like Stars ourselves

resting in the sacred palm of our Creator

floating in His tears.

Joanne Cucinello  © 2013

Dreams

My dreams are seeping and

weaving into daytime

haunting places so real they test my sanity.

I can't remember if they were once

a part of my conscious life

or some fantasy landscape I've created

repeating itself over and over

behind my lids as I sleep and dream.

There is a place so familiar

a place that returns again and again

where I swim unafraid and calm

in green murky waters

aware that reeds and seaweed

are reaching up from the bottom

swirling around me as I swim.

Strangely, I'm not afraid

I just keep swimming in that

dark green water toward the other

side without struggle or fear . . . even though

I never seem to get there.

What are dreams?

What are we to learn from them?

I often wonder, as so many have,

which is reality . . . this life I'm living, or my dreams?

Perhaps both . . . perhaps they are one.

Still I wonder

if the bits and pieces of my days

are painting the palate of my brain

trying to make some connection at night

with that wild spirit bound in chains

and the deeper meaning of my life

hoping to form a bridge to the other side?

Joanne Cucinello   2013

Purple Sky

Even the rich know sorrow.
They suffer too, when it comes.
The loss of a child is even worse
for them, and anguish lies in bed

with them when darkness comes

and money cannot buy a life.
Nothing stops the storms
that tear the trees from their roots.

We forget sometimes ~

when the sun is shining and
flowers are blooming ~

that all must die one day

even those who live on top of the hill.

But if we were to think of death every day

we would stay closed like a sealed book
stuck on a shelf in back of the library
where no one goes.

Life is this moment right now

and this moment is all we really have.

Life is the gift we cannot save for another day.

Too many children die rich and poor
yet the world still turns
while their songs are sung

and their kites fly high
even as the sky turns purple.

Joanne Cucinello 2013

No Gods Among Us

Where have they gone

these noble men?

Once they were gods

great gods among us

but their pedestals have

crumbled, turned to dust

lies and deceit

all shades of trickery

slide from their mouths

like worms

trust . . . misplaced

honor  . . . diminished

loyalty  . . . traded for coins

chivalry  . . . erased from myths

and yet, these Once Gods

still envision olive wreaths

around their heads at a

mirrors glance

even though transparent

garments clothe their backs

revealing the very same ass cracks

seen on those of us who used to

stand in awe.

Joanne Cucinello

Stardom

Stardom

It is difficult moving

from the Center

of their Universe . . .

that Universe that now

has grown out and beyond

the habitat of Mother Moon

and Father Sun.

Orbs, we were once,

shining in their eyes

lighting the days and nights

with love and comfort

kissing wounds and making

cupcakes grow in the oven.

It is difficult watching

the flame die

seeing both of us

becoming little stars

visible sometimes  . . . at Sunset.

And yet . . .

this is how it is meant to be

this is how new galaxies

are born and life's circle

completes itself

over and over again.

Soon we will be immortalized

of this I am sure

for truly

it was Love that brought us here

and Love that will remain

when all the other stars have burned away.

Ahh! . . . letting go of Stardom can be difficult.

Joanne Cucinello   © 2013

The Song

The girl child

grew like a vine

attaching herself

to any strong oak

in the forest

while the boy child

ran wild and tall

foraging and digging

for nuggets of gold.

One day

they found each other

by a silver stream that

bubbled and sang

of a strange new song

they had yet to hear.

Suddenly

their eyes opened wide

and caught sight

of their fingertips touching

and softness grew

up their arms

and into their hearts.

This was the beginning

of yearning . . .

and this became the Song.

Joanne Cucinello  © 2013

Dream Walk

Tell me

did I walk

into that dream

last night . . .

or did

that dream walk

into me?

Like hard rain it pounded

at my window glass

ready to shatter all

that I believe my life to be.

I fight

trying to hold onto

my cells and my skin

even though these bones

are beginning to wane

and settle into a soft

comfortable clump.

What will become of me

when I can no longer see

beyond this shell I knew

so well as Me?

What will become of

those dreams I thought

were mine?

Joanne Cucinello  ©  2013

Nose Dives

I keep trying to understand

how and when the process of human

transformation begins to take a nose dive

for some.

How does a human being turn into a Monster?

When does that sweet quiet child suddenly

begin hurting animals, just like that?

Is it really possible to go unnoticed,

or is no one paying attention?

We hear about it every day.

The News reports another psychopath

has tortured his victim and we hear the interviews

of family and neighbors

citing he was just a quiet guy, who kept to himself.

It makes me wonder . . .

Is no one paying attention?

Is there some point in that downward spiral

when time can be suspended long enough

for an antidote to be given?

Could unconditional love be that antidote?

Is there love enough to erase the darkness

and stains of the past, or must the Monster stay

locked and chained in his Cave forever?

Joanne Cucinello  

I

Will You find Me?

Oh Lord, my soul is thirsty!

How do I live in this world?

How can I slice through fog so dense

and find that kernel of light and

truth you've promised?

I have sifted the sand around my feet

a thousand times, but it is hot and dry

and nowhere can I find that

drop of gold that floated in

my Mother's womb beside me.

Sometimes in my dreams

I can almost touch it

in a baby's smile or in a song

that has always stirred my soul

and then I wake, no longer in that grace.

What shall I do, while in my heart

there lives such fire?

Will I burn away to ashes and spend

eternity in some forgotten urn

or will you find my drop of gold,

through all this chaos and bring me home?

Joanne Cucinello    ©  2013

Necessary

I am waiting

like the small acorn

left behind and buried

in the barren earth of winter

waiting for

the warm rays of

springtime's sun to

open up my heart again with light

do we all

not close that

inner door when

daylight's scarce and night is long

how necessary then this test

to pause and stay within the heart's

perimeter and muddle through the aches

of our decisions past, that walk us through the labyrinth

there is no undoing

yet the years leave memories

with faded watermarks, blurring truth

sometimes, as the mind grows weary in the dark.

so come sweet light

add your colors softly painted

to this waiting canvas of my thirsty soul

and I will, like the acorn, part this earth and bloom again.

Joanne Cucinello      2013

Crown Coffee Shop

Crown Coffee Shop

It's been many years since our first date

and the small Crown Coffee Shop

we walked to on that snowy night

cold and chilled to the bone

no gloves or scarves, just acting cool

the way teenagers tried to do back then.

You said you went there often

and the owner wouldn't mind if we sat

drinking coffee all night. . . just staying warm.

Now it wasn't fancy, you warned me in advance

but it was cozy, and Tina, the waitress served

the best damn coffee this side of the Brooklyn Bridge!

There it was, just ahead, Crown Coffee Shop

the blinking neon sign, like Morse code,

saying "Come on in, you would-be lovers !"

When you opened the door

and I got a whiff of that fresh ground coffee

floating toward my cold pink nose . . . I knew somehow

we'd be sipping coffee together

for the rest of our lives . . . first thing

in the morning, tap, tap tapping out . . . that same Morse code.

Joanne Cucinello

I wrote this Story Poem in 2008, but for those of you, who were not following my blog back then . . . hope you enjoy reading it on this blustery winter's day . . . .

Muse on the Red Wall

I stood before the fresco

a Muse on a long forgotten red wall.

I had heard the stories

of this ancient beauty rare.

In daylight, it was said

should seekers come

to gaze upon her face

she captures visions

of their hearts and draws them in

with sapphire glance

 and beckonings

of distant flute and lyre .

When darkness falls

she dances, lithe grace

under candle glow

and moonlight.

  So unannounced . . . 

I did return that night

and sat beneath the willow

bent to see.

And there before me

as the moon passed

soft across the evening cloud

she stepped upon the grass

the red wall watching

and began her ancient dance.

It was then

I heard her voice so pure

like Celtic lilt adrift among the trees

a song to tear my heart forever more.

She sang as if for me to hear:

In my eyes are a thousand faces

 Dancing the dance of a thousand years. . .

the music and chants of all the children

dance my dance and cry my tears.

You and I . . . the face in the mirror

You and I . . . the footprints in sand

Born of a rhythm that rides on

Moonbeams,

born with the earth in the palm

of our hands.

Hear the music

that travels the centuries

Find your heartbeat

and hold on fast

You and I . . . just the face

in the mirror

The Song, the Song . . .

is all that will last.

Joanne Cucinello  

© 2004