honu:
I’uni Kwi Athi? Hiatho.By Roberta Hill WhitemanWhite horses, tails high, rise from the cedar. Smoke brings the fat crickets, trembling breeze. Find that holy place, a promise. Embers glow like moon air. I call you back from the grasses. Wake me when sand pipers fly. They fade, and new sounds flutter. Cattails at sunrise. Hair matted by sleep. Sun on the meadow. Grey boughs lie tangled. The ground I was born to wants me to leave. I’ve searched everywhere to tell you my eyes are with the hazels. Wind swells through fences, drones a flat ache for hours. At night, music would echo from your womanless bedroom. Far down those bleaching cliffs, roses shed a torrent. Will you brush my ear? An ice bear sometimes lumbers west. Your life still gleams, the edge melting. I never let you know. You showed me and how under snow and darkness, the grasses breathe for miles. Notes:I’uni kwi athi? hiatho - father’s name. He never told us what it meant. Roberta Hill Whiteman, “I’uni Kwi Athi? Hiatho”
honu:
Fire Tiger , burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? _ In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire? _ And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet? _ What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp! _ When the stars threw down their spears And water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? _ Fire Tiger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?