Blessed Disillusion - Rebecca del Rio

[Larry Robinson]

Blessed Disillusion

I thought it would be sudden,
instead it is gradual, graceful.
The sky falls leisurely.
A Chagall sky, it breaks
apart, slices of cobalt,
creamy eddies of clouds
drift down like feathers,
freed. Little by little,
pieces liberate, float down like ash
wafting away from the whole.
Here, chunks of indigo, shot
through with streaks of sunset, morning
silver. Venus shines in my hands.
Mars burns my eyes.
The sky lies at my feet
slices and wedges.
I pick them up, wonder,
turn them in my hands,
Warp and weft without the whole.
It happens unhurriedly. I always thought
it would be sudden. The sky would fall.
Instead it slips gradually from its moorings.
Overhead measureless emptiness
wheels and turns.

	- Rebecca del Rio