Childlike Play


~ for Rob, October 2019


I will give you pull and push —-

And flesh and bone and home.

I will give you feather kisses

On the brow of furrowed stresses.

I will give you long and short

And deep caresses, then abort

To stand beside the bed

Just to look at you instead.

I will give you childlike play

As we dance the day away,

Cooking food upon a stove.

Making love deep in a bed

I will give you all I am —-

Wheat for dough and making bread

Verse for dinner and for lunch

Because I have a simple hunch

That you are more than shadow-light

Lost in moments of frailty-fright.

I will give you arms that hold,

Heart that opens in delight.

I will give you all that and more

Sweet brilliant Poet I do adore.





Frolicking with Puck


I trail the wake of your light into the coffee shop

knowing you are magic.

Liquid grace splits the air apart for you to move through.


The Master of Ceremonies, The Permission Grantor,

The King, The Jester, The Clown – all arrive.

The Top-Hat Ringmaster of Delight performs

As each mask glides from page to face to page again,

a conjunctive union of deft fingers and sharp mind.


The Magician with a Hat Not-A-Hat and a Rabbit

Not-A-Rabbit. And Words-Not-Words shift-shape

into meaning, transmute into breathing,

take flight like Doves soaring

above the Pleasant Silver-Haired Lady of Style

and the husband she tells to sit down. Listen.

But the call of the Dove and its gentle cooing

is not a language his ears were built to hear.


This birdsong rolls into form into fountains gushing

a washing-water of repentance and recollection

that the Lady Patron of Renowned Repetition hopes

she can capture in a box, but the Fountain of Youth

remains a mystery and a type of water that boxes cannot carry.


On we go in this way until a shy sparkle of translucent blue truth

In the half-lid drop-gaze smile within the masking  shimmers.

A heart-beat, heart-light, soul-spark knowing of recognition comes.



Every Turning of the World: 2012

Every turning of the world / knows some who are disinherited, to whom / neither the past nor the future belongs. / Even what is about to happen is still remote to them. / ….  ~from The Seventh Duino Elegy, by Rainer M. Rilke

January comes into the Carolinas mild and warm, 65 degrees and sunny the first days, now turning to misting rain and cooler drafts of air. It is 2012 – an election year in an America that is still suffering through a recession and just ending a 10 year war overseas. The belief and fear that “our current world will end” on December 21, 2012 is prominent in many minds. (See The worldwide banking crises and financial upheaval still murmurs and twists – no one can promise that 2012 will be a better year – a fearful world holds its breath and waits as the year 2012 drifts into being and claims its moment in history.

We all want a better year than the one we fear is coming. Catastrophe is never an easy thing to bear. IF we believe life on this planet ends in the coming December does it change who we are? How we live? What daily life becomes? Does the fear of ending make existence sweeter and more dear to us? Or, is the human race more likely to become ruthless, desperate, dangerous? Will we allow ourselves to even consider the possibility of mass ending, humans dying in the streets like the dinosaurs, fossils of a past time?

I, for one, believe that human beings have an infinite tendency to live in a created place of selective vision. We are a unique being able to live in denial when facing the most simple facts contrary to all indicators of an opposite truth. We paint pictures in our minds of the world we live in, who we are, and what really matters.  Thus, we have an innate ability to minimize and move on.

It is this creative ability that produces a “forward motion” mindset that allows us to keep moving and prevents us from “freezing in the headlights” like a deer or possum. Our creativity, hope, and faith will continue to push us forward, step after step, no matter what the new year brings. But, with all that said, consider the question: If this were the last year of your life – what would you do with it?



Art Prints

Artwork By and copyrighted 2012, Rachel Christine Nowicki. Visit her page at www.Fine Art for more information.