Early this morning, right after dawn
sitting in my home, reading a poem, looking at my dining room wall
The mask.
Look at the mask!
Which mask makes the most meaning today?
The tiny colorful bird mask from Guatemala
carved from a piece of throw away wood
by hands more grateful for work than cultural heritage
the long thin Kenyan face
intimidating and lovely at once
hiding a secret of centuries
Or
the sweet tiger mask
missing its right ear
(what did it hear it could no longer live with?)
the gaudy devil mask
smiling with knowing
designed to scare away evil and question daily sins
ceramic Mayan gods - wooden Aztec gods
scattered throughout the wall
overseers of all, pretending to be serene, yet so very intimate?
The mask.
Look at the mask!
Now, that I have written this, I can go back to reading
Lorca’s poem, “Dance of Death.”
My Spanish is in need of major healing.
MariJo Moore © March 24, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
MariJo,
ReplyDeleteIt's so good to see you writing again! Glad you're settled. The plants are doing well; thanks again. We just got your new book--Leisa has it, but it's my turn next! Take care. :)