"The Crossing" by Mark Bryan
Keren Taylor
inside amberI descend into the dark center
of a five-legged starfish, inhaling
a pungent amber scent.
He waits for me here in this round room
sitting on an agate bench, hands folded.
I step into a carpet of purple anemones
sink into my anklebones
and hold my breath
for a moment the air is so, so still
I can feel all of my skin against it
as if under water.
The walls move slightly.
I suddenly notice they are made
of thousands of fine orange tentacles.
listening?
breathing?
sensing?
When he begins to speak
the colors in the room brighten and glow
fed by his motion, his mind.
“We are all infinitely connected, attached
in unseen places. As sand cannot be counted
you cannot remove yourself from this, from here.
Breathe. Why do you forget to breathe?"
Bio:
Keren Taylor is a poet, songwriter and visual artist, living in Los Angeles. Her poetry has appeared in The San Gabriel Valley Poetry Review, Wavelength and So Luminous the Wildflowers: An Anthology of California Poetry (Tebot Bach Press). She is founder and Executive Director of WriteGirl (www.writegirl.org), a creative writing and mentoring organization which pairs professional women writers with at-risk high school girls.
