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Best Poems From
PATTI MASTERMAN
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21.
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Counted Breath
ghosts breathe you in
when you sleep:
half alive, half dead
a split symmetry holds
this universe open,
keeping the two poles apart.
(death misses you a thousand times
before his blades catch hold)
this world is busy passing,
while we're still counting breaths-
harsh the beauty
turns us inside out,
so we can see the whole again
and recognize our self.
Patti Masterman
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22.
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All things move in a circular motion
The lathe of heaven's spinning, spinning;
Now the web of time beginning,
Time the holder of the many secrets
We must someday learn;
Time the hearth where lie the days
The universe will slowly burn.
Life springs up; it's breathing, breathing
And the web of life is weaving,
Life revolves through many stages
And no one foretells the whole;
Life, the mold in which we pour
The essence, turns into the soul.
Patti Masterman
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23.
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Honor Yourself Above All Others
Love yourself first,
So that others may find you lovable,
And endeavor to get to know yourself better.
Always putting yourself last
Encourages the world to do the same.
Creatures can sense if you are unbalanced;
Unwieldy on your own two feet.
Confidence in the self is more acceptable
Than an untested confidence in any other,
For you know not the thoughts of others;
You can only recognize things that lie within yourself.
And who else is seated, underneath your very heart?
Patti Masterman
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24.
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Sometimes Wind Moves In Secret
Sometimes wind moves in secret
Like a lover or a moon
Sometimes a board will answer
Or a shutter or a loon
Sometimes wind answers itself
Like a woman at the mirror
And sometimes no one's present
Or unwilling to hear
Wind moans over graveyards
As if weeping for the dead
Wind howls at the windows
Like it wants you, in your bed
Wind steals kites of children
Without making any sound
And wind tears off your head scarf
But lifts hair, like a crown
Wind sighs round a lighthouse
Like a sailor blown off course
Wind whispers in the rigging
Like a breeze has lost its voice
Wind dies in the harbor
When the moon is sailing high
But wind sings before morning
When the twilight blush is nigh
Patti Masterman
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