Blessing VIII | Anne Whitehouse
From Blessings and Curses
Drawn to the desert solitude before dawn,
she walks in the moonlight and the starlight,
listening to the mysterious rustle of the wind
in the Chamisa bushes. At dawn,
even the dust on the ground shines white
in the heart of the old capital.
Bits of straw gleam in adobe walls.
Blessed by marriage,
she lets her husband and child sleep
while she drinks deep draughts
from the delicious well of solitude,
alive to birds and insects
and small animals in the brush,
the sun just coming up
and the wind blowing over like a wave.
In the peace and joy of these walks
she creates the voice within her
to send pure and strong and true
to the last rows of the theater.
In the shadows
the coolness survives
in the hottest part
of the summer day,
when even the lizards
wriggle out of the sun.
Her voice is like the scent of roses,
intense and evanescent.
Her gestures rapidly shape the air.
Energy pulses in the red heart of pain,
the white heart of longing,
yellow for acceptance,
lavender, pink, and rose.
The roses are blooming
in great abundance.
Anne Whitehouse is the author of six poetry collections, most recently Meteor Shower (Dos Madres Press, 2016), as well as a novel, Fall Love. Recent honors include 2016 Songs of Eretz Poetry Prize, 2016 Common Good Books’ Poems of Gratitude Contest, 2016 RhymeOn! Poetry Prize, 2016 F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald Museum Poetry Prize, and 2015 Nazim Hikmet Poetry Award. She is a graduate of Harvard College and Columbia University. She lives in New York City. www.annewhitehouse.com