Here she gathers her flying hair into rocky curls. Her eyes blow away; fire, soil and air. Her heart bangs drop down, one by one, on the road. Her eyelashes melt into wax covering caves floors. Her stony dress waves over her marble thighs. She gives back the apple to its bough, puts back the rib to its cage. She becomes a lava shoot and flows out from furrows. Then she turns out to ashes, scattering with the wind. But her lover burns with love. So, he takes his two hands, a chisel, his tears, and goes deep into a forest of clay. _________________
(1) Pygmalion (Greek mythology) is a statue of a woman with whom the sculptor carving her falls in love, but when she was turned to a real woman as he’d wished, love evaporated.
I am 58 years old, from eastern Galilee, Israel (Palestine). I studied English literature, psychology and Law at the Hebrew university (Jerusalem). In the last three years, I published three books of which is dedicated to prose poetry. You are invited to visit the Facebook page Shadows of Water, where I publish my prose poems I translate to English.
Once lived a King of Cyprus famed Who held all women folk in disdain He eluded wedlock, never to be tamed While his people, they cried prayers in vain Venus at last chose to answer their call From the heavens
She gathers her flying hair into a rocky braid, her eyes blow away into fire, soil and air. Her heart bangs drop, one by one, on the road. Her eyelashes melt into wax covering caves floors. Her stony dress waves