“Echoes of a Breath,” “First Day,” and “Ping Like a Dream” by Fabrice Poussin

 

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“Echoes of a Breath”

She did little, standing upon the snowy peak
remembering the fires of times long gone
but exhaled a kind breath of infinite grace.

The earth too seemed to be alive with fire
restful at last yet filled with great secrets
and there, poised as a classic deity she remained.

Arms outstretched to receive the magnificent gift
she radiated with the unending pleasure of innocence
her soul facing the cosmos, her true residence.

The light mist of her beating breast into the chilly ether
flowed softly as her body trembled in ecstasy
on a journey beginning to reach the end of all things.

It was long ago and still the echoes of her breath
continue to travel through the great dimensions
leaving upon all lives a deep trace of delicate joy.

“First Day”

He stood at the mouth of a burning Earth
watching the molten rock flow to the ocean
of flames slowing to another landscape.

His feet trembled in unison with the motion
of changes. Wrinkles of youth appeared
below the surface of an emerging world.

Unsure of his own being he contemplated
the moment which may be his last
newborn in a world of chaos and perils.

All around, the earth roared with impatience
growling as if Satan himself sought an escape
from the furnaces of his fiery home.

A peak rose slowly seeking cooler climes
a haven for the safety of the lone adventurer
still, as an icy storm came to be for the first time.

Sovereign of a most hostile kingdom he would wait
for the deliverance of a fertile imagination
to create lands full of unending majesty.

Alone between the infinite spaces of a new realm
the wishes of his fragile bones began to ooze
into a domain where his heart might beat at last.

“Ping Like a Dream”

There is no distance in the mind
closed to the distractions of the realm

A fleshy cord pulses in bluish strings
tightrope wrestlers pull on the slippery hope.

Aches tug at the core of these travelers
tingling to the depths in gentle fireworks.

So far away but so near they may be the same
touching constantly in the illusion of otherness.

So distinct in their evident differences
miles away but never apart.

In the infinity of dimensions they float
neighbors in the apparent darkness of oblivion.

Playing in the unlikely union of all particles
they are part of an eternal dance with all they are.


Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, the Chimes, and dozens of other magazines. His photography has been published in the Front Porch Review and the San Pedro River Review, as well as other publications. 


All photographs © Fabrice Poussin.

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