On Claudel's 'L'Announce Faite A Marie' Poem by Donna Ialongo

the summer leaf fell, rustling my hair
like the praying wind of
Monsanvierge.

pseudo-mother, your chiseled
face beheld the diseased kiss.
(a kiss of love for all - never one)
Mara, put out your eyes,
the black hair of your jealousy
looks too much like the world.
'her eyes were black, now they are blue'
eyeless, noseless -
yes, her faceless face.
when you saw it. the hideous result
of such love, were you choked
with remorse?
did you love Jacques?

and Jacques. you built but
one cathedral. in the body of Mara.
once promised to Violaine. as
much hers as the ring of Justitia.
Then, you saw her burnt deep in
the moon of the Angelus. her
garnished habit attesting her fidelity.
a knife.
a rip.
an ugly flower blossomed beneath her breast.
then, did you love her, Jacques?

one did. his desire softened by the
Most Satisfying Union.
builder of a million cathedrals in a
million cities.
Pierre, you make every rock
clutch his brother in
penetration.

je m'appelle violaine. j'ai dix-huit ans.
you were your father's daughter, grace.
he found your silent bones on the dune
and the story imbedded in the gaps that were eyes, spoke:

la cloche sonne

Anne, Anne, you broke the bread to give us
Grace. after you had
crept on holy ground you were cleansed.
pure enough to hold her.

he carried her to
the tomb of Monsanvierge.
he knew they had both hewn themselves
to the cross
both had mounted it -
laughing.

(July 14,1965)