This is a very old poem written in 1992. I’ve revised it twice since then: Once in 2003, then a little more this month. It’s interesting to me to look back and see how and what I used to write.
This poem was also written just before I gave up on metrical structures for a period of over ten years, and about 6 months before I stopped writing poetry altogether for a period of about 7 years.
As I recall, Yamuna was a dancer from India who taught traditional ethnic dance at UCLA. I saw her perform a few times, and she apparently made quite an impression on my young hormones.
The Sacred Moment
For Yamuna
An ancient wind there swept across the field.
An ardent flame there flashed before mine eyes.
A cherished wonder forthwith spun and reeled,
A fervent beauty gracing earth and skies.
Serpent-like, her sensuous form moved freely.
She swept the ages with each pass of her hand.
Her gaze divine with love made radiantly,
Held all the earth from where she there did stand.
Her spirit shone exalting in her dance,
Fiery beauty flaring transcendent light.
Her fairest face inspiring deep romance,
A thrilling wonder, passionately bright.
Just a moment of moments lost to time,
I saw this fair and radiant holy host.
An incarnation of love that rang with rhyme—
Away she faded from me like a ghost.
