An Opening Poem by Patti Masterman

So stop everything else now, my sweet-
except that timed, to the moving seas embrace;
the hallucinate breath of the body's rising.

Let it be as sweet as, nearly cloying-
lips shivering under remembered pressure;
or voices faded, but no less reassuring.

Tastes of night, in the hearts blood flowing,
or airy essence tumbling secret chambers-
fluid fountainings, where one's safe from danger.

Goblet-ed offerings, to some half-remembered god;
carved myths on trees, over slumbering sod-
these are distractions, from a truth concrete.

So stop if you will, suffer me to silence,
but leaving an opening:
hope can always get in again.