(1) Lotus by Night
How to tell the dark
from the blossom it feeds?
Leaf’s shadow spreading
from stem rising?
And the water – where
else than in waves,
never the light
but the light divided –
up now,
down then,
never where it was,
breaking into sight
wherever I am breaking,
wherever an I is spreading,
mirroring its leaf, its shadows,
ever its deepening eyes.
(2) Mother and Child
Where do I have a face
except where I am open,
where up I look
and into me you be?
Where are my lips
except at your coming?
Saying you I see,
know in your name my need.
Eyes closed –
where I feel you is light –
knowing in your ribs
a form of my hand: fingers of me,
finding me now:
what made my face
and seeks my face
and feeds me, feeds with seeking.
--Lloyd Haft (from Formosa
