Tuesday, 3 March 2020

Dream Of Kites

by Judy Katz-Levine

They had long strings and stretched to the stars. It was an obsidian expanse, where they floated.

I used to love to make puppets with children. We made them out of socks, with red felt tongues.

I told you about the kite dream. There was also one about a friend who sang. The next day I played the nigun* she sang on the flute, the sacred one I had transcribed so many decades ago. I will meet her one day this week, we'll have coffee and talk about her recent divorce.  But you and I, we didn't go that way, you and I came back together. The air is charged with scarred hands that fly off and become bluebirds.

The kites are still flying as sunset descends, abalone grays and nests in barren trees, script of branches. I did a meditation today - I was light, and all was light, the trees, the walls all luminous. Even the kites were light, and their strings stretching to the stars.

*nigun - a wordless song to God

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Judy Katz-Levine's most recent book is The Everything Saint (Word Press). Her poems have appeared over the years in Salamander, Miriam's Well, Writing In A Woman's Voice, Fence, Blue Unicorn, and many other journals.  Other books include When The Arms Of Our Dreams Embrace and Ocarina, and a chapbook When Performers Swim, The Dice Are Cast. Also a jazz flutist, she enjoys playing at jam sessions and occasionally at nursing homes.

1 comment:

  1. "The air is charged with scarred hands that fly off and become bluebirds." Sublime.