Jane Shlensky
Creation
Your hands
are potter’s hands,
deny them if you will
their history of skin,
sound sinew, soft snare.
Your long fingers
take earth to task,
smooth it to service,
palms cupped in clay
creating vessels
that last and remember,
round-lipped, well-gripped
spouts and ears,
a lap of bowl, all
excess squeezed away
to make room
for emptiness.
I watch you work,
your encircling arms
and bend of neck,
your face peaceful
with unknowing,
and I fancy I am clay
beneath your hands,
that thoughts knead you
as you knead me,
that images whirl and blur
as possibilities move
beneath your hands
shoulders, breasts,
chins, lips, and eyes
emerge from dust,
take in your breath,
and worlds are formed.
To a Mandarin Mirrored On Water
God loves a duck to make him living art,
his feathers tufts of scarlet, teal, and brown,
white stripes on dark feathers, an inner tube of maroon breast
afloat, aloft,
a white tip on a beak of flame,
his dark eye shadowed with whiskers of gold,
a color palette created just for him.
Imagine the Designer’s sudden joy
when he was done, the duck’s wings spread to wind,
his waxy feet plunged to paddle water
where he hovers, dreamlike,
his echoed image mirrored for all the world to see.
Mama tells me all this by a lake ornamented with water fowl.
I look into her eyes and see myself there
looking back.
God loves a duck to make him so
like a rippled rainbow that fades and glows
and that is good
is good
so good.
Jane Shlensky, a veteran teacher and musician, holds an MFA from UNC-Greensboro. Her recent poetry and fiction has appeared in sundry magazines and anthologies, including Writer’s Digest, Pinesong, KAKALAK, Southern Poetry Anthology: NC, moonShine review, and Nostos. Her poems have thrice been nominated for a Pushcart. Her chapbook is Barefoot on Gravel.
