Poems by Nelferch Merchoed
IF
I 'm seeking shelter under old trees greening:
I 'm resting
next the deep blue pond,
Lau's homestead ,
Entrance to the crystal castle.
The little androgynous figure in my hand,
Remake of art work born
from hands and heart
gone for millennia…
My tears have not yet dried,
Evoking little rainbows on my lashes
For my comfort
And I begin to understand…
If
My word was true,
The ground your faith is born from
Proves a hoax.
If
my word was true,
all your past lives
are but a dream,
for what you took for real
has never been existent.
If
my word was true,
this dream of the past
could not excuse
your present loves.
If
my word was true,
there would be no excuse
for hurting me
but injured pride.
And thus you must
Hurt and condemn me,
must make yourself believe
I am a wicked thing,
Must hurt yourself
the most in doing so
for if
my word is true,
I have stolen your life's dream
By means of a little androgynous figure-
Itself the dream of one who lives no more.