Ellen Porter
11/11/07
Air

The beautiful, sufficient air
fills my little room
and I bow in gratitude
to my Beloved.

She offers me breath of Her breath
but I cannot receive enough
to fill my devastated lung.

Oh, Beloved
do not stop offering your gift, my air.
Stay close, Unbegotten One, stay near.


Ellen Porter
10/09/07
depression

i claim it is my life’s work
but who is it that loves a poet?
the words set down in habit—
like a hen laying eggs—
left behind in an old notebook
at my death
and like my mother’s verse before me
tossed, unread, into the flames.

what is there to do
with an old poem?
with a dying poet?

a life’s work
and nothing spoken
to save.


Ellen Porter
10/11/07
hours later i slept

last night the man
spoke to us with
honey in his mouth
made me believe—
for as long as a gnat
flutters over rotting fruit—
that life could change
if only one soul
by one soul
metanoia

and hours later i slept
i dreamt death would come soon
to the whole pitiful world
and then i awoke

in the blue-black hole
inside my eyes
i searched for this prophet
to ask him
and what then of your metanoia?

from some dark and grinning place
he whispered back
this is the real thing
alleluia


Ellen Porter
11/03/07
morro bay

there is a refuge on
morro rock
falcons i believe
the rock wired and barreled against
amateur tourists looking for
a challenging climb

we are pushed as far west
as land permits there is only
the wild sea
the last untamed chaos
barring space travel through
the planets and stars

and the sea taunts us
growing breakers tall as heaven
then banging tons of salty water
near our timid feet

we watch
captive to the maelstrom
and slip one foot forward
migration
daring back the sea


Ellen Porter
10/14/07
Resting Place

The friend of my Beloved
comes with his wrinkled face
pulled down to his feet
and lashes moist
with dribbling tears.

Why are you crying,
Hafiz?

In laughter
you have a place to play,
but without shadows
our Beloved has
no shade
in which
to rest.


Ellen Porter
9/21/07
The Lap of God
(after Hafiz)

You say you are tired
of seeking but never finding
the monastery chapel
when God is at home.

Listen!
The Beloved hangs around
the monastery whenever a
dear friend is there.

Why not
look in a mirror?
Stop all your exhaustive seeking
and rest,
laughing and singing
in the lap of God.


Ellen Porter
9/18/07
To the Guest in My House
(after Hafiz)

I begin to give
love away
to the guest in my house.

She smiles and laughs
not knowing it is God
she is receiving.

And God laughs
kissing me on the cheek
while I nearly faint with pleasure.

She is offering more and more
love to give away.

My pockets are filled
with Her presence.