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Best Poems From
YEN CRESS
(3/9/43)
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41.
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The Pigeons' Chance
Imprisoned in a cage
just large enough to stretch their wings
but too small to fly within,
they became friends.
They were each other's only, constant,
mirror-image companions.
Two lovely birds,
White as snow, gentle as snowflakes,
cooing in the morning sun,
and in the dusk,
day after warm day,
night after summer night.
But it was not to be so forever.
When the cage door was opened,
leaving them free to go,
they stayed.
Too long confined,
they did not understand
what freedom means.
Long moments
they stayed within the limits
of their galvanized mesh walls,
gazing out,
confused.
Why is the door open?
Is it an illusion?
Is it a trick?
Is it safe to even think of venturing out?
Into the garden?
Past the bougainvillea?
To the telephone wires?
To the rocky hill?
Beyond?
Should we stay?
Should we stand by the door?
Will the door once more be slammed shut?
Tentatively,
as squabs emerge from their birth-shells,
the birds stepped out,
onto the lattice-covered patio,
into the wideness of the universe.
No more latch,
no more cross-hatched view,
no more waiting.
At first they ventured
only as far as the patio's edge,
pecking seeds
that had fallen to the ground.
They looked at me with uncertain eyes,
without terror, without affection.
They did not try to go beyond
the familiar environs of their imprisonment.
What a little freedom it was!
Yet to the lovely white birds,
that little freedom
was alpha and omega.
Yen Cress
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42.
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Three Glances at One Mollusk
Small and quiet
A snail slowly glides
Up this leaf
Rose petal
For a common snail-
Grand banquet!
Eyes on stalks-
Body just a foot-
Snails are strange!
Yen Cress
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43.
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To My Child During His Nap
I pause awhile. A fleeting smile
Has crossed your precious face.
Peaceful, asleep, in dreams so deep-
A child of innocence and grace.
It was today, while out at play,
A rascal made you sad.
He broke your toy just to annoy.
We'll fix it soon, my little lad.
I'm glad I'm near, ready to hear
Your laughter or your cry.
I saw the way it was today-
You really needed me close by.
With tear-filled eyes and melt-heart cries,
You flew to my embrace-
Your haven sweet, a safe retreat,
A special spot to hide your face.
'Kisses! ' you cried, arms spread out wide.
You climbed up in my lap.
A hug or two would comfort you
And calm you down before your nap.
Now, as you sleep, do wooly sheep
Go bouncing through your head?
Or, little boy, my pride and joy,
Are you a royal prince instead?
Do cars and planes and boats and trains,
Or creepy, crawly things,
Or puppy dogs, or bumpy frogs,
Or birds with purple wings
Fill up your head when you're in bed?
Perhaps you dream an angel sings.
With half a chance do ponies prance
Behind those sleepy eyes?
Or do you see a chickadee?
They're sometimes hard to recognize.
The world is big. Go-search and dig!
Explore its wonders bright!
Close to my heart you got your start,
My boy, my son, my day's delight.
Yen Cress
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44.
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To My Survivors
Before I give myself to Mother Earth
To cycle back to dust from whence I came,
I want to say a word about my birth,
Before the world forgets my humble name.
Suppose I'd never lived, had not been born,
Had never drawn that first, most fateful breath,
Nor waked to greet each day, morn after morn,
Had not remained, defying early death.
I wonder if it would have made a dent.
Would someone else be standing in my place?
Or would someone have struggled to invent
A clever way to fill the empty space?
Who would have struck the bells that I have rung?
Would some have cried because my laughter lay
Unlaughed and all my songs remained unsung?
Would silence hover where I am today?
Would piles of virgin paper vainly wait
For lines of mine that would have passed, unwrit?
Would someone find a way to compensate
For darkened lanterns that I would have lit?
Crouched in a dismal doorway, would there be
A lost, bedraggled soul I'd have made warm?
Would someone welcome the poor refugee
I would have rescued from the drenching storm?
What would this spinning, crazy world have done?
Would anyone have shed a lonely tear
Because I was not there to start some fun?
What would you all have done if I weren't here?
Don't send me flowers when I'm covered up
Or mourn my passing from this twirling ball.
Instead, raise to your lips a joyful cup
And toast the fact that I was born at all!
(c.1988)
Yen Cress
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