Within

Vast land before us

Thorn trees, brush, grass Out of nowhere

Trumpets sound ‘Thundering feet

Flapping ears

Eyes flashing

The magnificent animal appears Splendor, glory fills the air. . The Real King

His kingdom surrounds us. We are his subjects Standing in awe

Bird perched on his back The court jester

His queen follows behind Little prince in tow.

We are invisible to him He glides past

Trumped up glory Follows him

Magnificent King

Returns to the court

--Victoria

“A new beginning”

“‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways,”’ A learned wiseman once wrote. But the question, I’m sure, can be simply dismissed For the effect of the words end all hope.

“I Love thee more than words can say”’ “I Love thee more than hearts convey”’

All this and more, I could say to you

If only my purpose was for you to woo.

For what is such love, when the heart is not ready To talk things through, to commit, to be steady.

We loved, we hated, we acted out of spite

Yet love, sweet love, was with us each night.

We did all we could, we tried to love true

We cried ourselves sick when we knew it was through.

“It’s my fault, it’s your fault’’ we roared to deaf ears Yet no single fault was the source of our tears.

Our efforts were flawed, we just went too fast

The fights, the greed, the pain- our past.

Our stars may yet shine, again in their spheres

But together, still together, will we blaze through the years. And as our hearts grow, to ourselves we stay true

May our love stand the test, and in us, start anew.

So the question is not, ‘‘How do I love thee?’’ For actions, not words, are undoubtedly the key.

--Craig Blair

Pain

Pain constantly pursues a person through their entire existence.

Is pain, discovering for the first time the stitches you received as a small child, and your Mother telling you how stupid you were because of her affection for you.

Is pain, the hurt you inflict on somebody, and

‘then realizing how much you injured that per-

son emotionally.

Is pain, watching your closest friend unable to support his wife and child because ofhard times and the way he accepts life stoically.

Is pain, not being able to make a person laugh, or find some word of encouragement because you’re selfishly having a bad day.

Is pain, tripping into a door because you find yourself staring at a woman.

Is pain, the ability to perceive good ina person, rather than the bad.

Is pain, seeing your father suffer a heart attack for the second time.

Is pain, the indifference to enjoying the simple pleasures in life, like jogging early in the morn- ing while the sun is rising, and realizing how nice it is to be alive.

Is pain, seeing the poverty, bigotry, class divi- sions, and brutality that permeate society.

Is pain, being unable to appreciate how deli- ciously a woman’s hair is spread across your chest in the morning, and watching the rays of sun filter through her hair magnificently.

Is pain, realizing the mistakes you’ ve made or pangs of regret that distract your thoughts every now and again.

Finally, is pain not just something that you can never escape from, but somehow alleviating the discomfort by simply making a person smile.

--G. Anderson

November 11, 1993/X-Press/13