Terracotta figure of Aphrodite within a cockle-shell; 2nd Century BC, probably Ruvo, Italy; British Museum.
She waits for you
as she normally does
with her mind open,
with her heart open
and her eyes closed.
As always
your path to her
is winding.
A different path you take
each time —
though you know
you will find her
resting in her palace
of oyster and clam shells
with their
dark, rainbow bellies —
glowing.
She waits for you, there,
among Spanish moss
and Cyprus knees
and air filled with
a fine, sparkling dust.
She waits for you
and as you draw near
she slowly
opens
her
eyes.
She knows all your stories…
You don’t have to say
a thing.
Her gaze is like the afterglow
of a sunset
that you bathe in.
She walks to you
and places her hand
on your heart.
Warmth fills your chest.
Her voice vibrates
her shell palace.
Her words are few
and they linger
in the air
with the sparkling dust
until it falls to the earth
around you.
Just as soon as you
find her,
she
is
gone.
Yet the warmth of
her words
still hold you.
If there ever was doubt,
it is too distant
to remember now.
And, you continue
on your journey
knowing
she is always near.
December 2008, based on a dream
Lindsay Kolasa 