“Ephemeral as my own certainty…”

INITIATION, II

At the crossroads, hens scratched circles
into the white dust. There was a shop
where I bought coffee and eggs, coarse-grained
chocolate almost too sweet to eat.
When I walked up the road, the string sack
heavy on my arm, I thought
that my legs could take me anywhere,
into any country, any life.
The air, dazzling as sand, grew dense
with light: bougainvillea spilled
over the salmon walls, the road
veered into the ravine. The world
could be those colors, the mangoes,
the melons, the avocado evenings
releasing their circles of moon.
I climbed the pink stairs, entered
the house as calm and ephemeral
as my own certainty:
this is my house, my key,
my hand with its new lines.
I am as old as I will ever be.

- NINA BOGIN -

I am as old as I will ever be…this is my house, my key, my hand with it’s new lines…I love this poem! The sense of light and color and memory, smell, taste. The calm and ephemeral certainty; the legs that can travel into any life, anywhere. The dazzling and the sense of age, wisdom and the present moment. Ahhhh.