When She Laughs
~Judith Sornberger
It's the boom of ice
cracking across lakes,
waking you from deepest dream
as it wakes the water,
lighting a match
in the memory of fish.
Its wake sends ripples
to our toes and fingertips.
We itch to dance en pointe.
We want to dig, eclipse
with earth the moons
rising from our cuticles.
(Bread rises.
Kindling catches.
Seeds burst their cases.
Ideas fall open like tulips.
For a moment we all
want to live forever.)
It hangs forever in the air--
a neon mist, catalogued as the Owl
Nebula, the Ring. New stars blink on
blue-white in the Pleiades,
the Universe Her library of laughter.
It's the deep-won laugh of an old woman.
Black-winged, raucous, diving
circles, swirling the air
with its antics.
Laugh deep in the body,
laugh down to your soul.
She considers it an invocation,
swoops in the open window,
lets you near Her.
ccsn.nevada.edu
M97, a planetary nebula, is also known as the "Owl Nebula"
due to the two darker regions that give the appearance of an
owl's "eyes". |
