"...to carry away memories brought for the forgetting
on one thousand one auspicious origami birds
whispering over chilled salmon, ripe fruit
suggesting the fertility of the afternoon."
from the poem, "One thousand one wedding cranes" 1998
secrets of a journey
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​
mile hunting mile
we rode
in the winter rain
washing
us clean
side by side longing for secrets
buried at the edge of the ocean
drawn always toward the brink
through fog dense a the feeling between us
mile suggesting mile
we rode
we rode faster
he navigated a turn in the dark i chewed
on another black feather searching for its flavor
he murmured
scared words
‘going too fast’
and slowly pressed
the gas pedal
to the floor
remembering
i would grow
very old
i slid a ring
of faith in him
onto my finger
we sucked on salt mist blasting through cracked windows
hoping to moisten our dried lips
mile inviting mile
we rode
slowing
​
i savored the taste of dreams as we traveled
fooled
confusing aroma for mouthful
windows rolled down
radio turned up
he turned off
the headlight and
we fought
over where the moon was
mile searching for mile
we rode
slowing
until we stopped
silhouettes watched as we stepped over the dead jack rabbit
onto the black beach sparkling alive with ‘red tide’
i wrote his name over and over and over
on shapes of cities fashioned in sand
of course he didn’t see in the dark
and kept whispering stories as he circled me
‘some day i’ll go back into the sea to die’
his words slid over incandescent waves
‘i’ve always wanted to breathe under water’
was my offering to the hungry surf
in dark hours after moonset we share only silence
thinking we could hear sounds of the future
mile pursing mile
we rode
again
in the winter rain
trying
to wash us clean
our hush crowded me
getting under foot and in my way
i passed him three pieces of orange
he put one in his mouth one in his pocket
and threw the last out the window
pointing to a star shooting along the horizon
mile piled upon mile
we rode
in the twilight on unfamiliar roads
winding around hills around hill we thought we knew
he old me not worry he always found his way
i touched my ring to remind me
exhausted from navigating through unmapped regions
and straining into the growing dusk
we paused collapsing onto wet grass holding hands
and watched our fear collect into shallow pools around us
face into my breast his tears dissolved
the filmy fabric between us
for the first time
I caught a glimpse of his ring
he slept for hours sorting sorrows from rapture
i was shy walking through his dreams
mile whispering after mile
we rode
in a silent movie outside landscape sped past steamy windows. a dark magician he lured me into my own shadows calling me onto a harvest of secrets. gently encompassing me he soothed my timidness which i tasted each morsel. delicacies fragrances shades of dark i knew i must devour and remember when i came up for air. he lingered on fathoming mysteries and phantoms. upon his return i asked what he’d seen he only smiled a singing a melody with the night. i thought i heard my name. excitement built in my body and he too began to recognize the shape the road was taking. his shoulder pressed heavily on mine as we pushed ourselves into daybreak.
mile compounding mile
we rode
in the winter rain
washing us clean
the world was getting bigger in the dawn
the space around us smaller
now we knew we knew our way
the terrain was tumbling the road smooth as silk sheets
i pondered the uneasy blush of the sky he said
it was ‘embarrassed pink’ we laughed over who thought it first
white stripe
black road
sky blue
hill green
but
we could never
agree
on the color of the truck
he put his visor down
i out mine up
i put on sunglasses
he took his off
we both opened our windows
all the way
to watch a crow
sitting on a fence
remembering the moon
we passed espresso back and forth sipping its blackness
mile building mile
we rode
i drove
the hills rolled over their hips becoming rumps
the road a black pattern he drew across the grass
we stopped and mailed two silver love letters
he took a bite of clouds i talked with wild flowers
returning to the truck we recognized two shining envelopes
and pocketed the promises concealed inside
in the softness of afternoon he drew me into
his seclusion of imagining reflection and dreams
canonizing our own saints
designing a clock that told no time
we wondered over loving
and considered the seven routes to the sea
mile developing into mile
we rode
he drove again
the moon began to show her face a bit too early he thought
she evidently still did not like to wait
i defended her ardor knowing her desire as my own
stood by her yearning to be full
her struggle with the dark
as i argued for her precocious appearance
he turn the light our defying us to relay only on her light
darkness crawled over me
frightened
and smothered by clouds of longing i couldn’t comprehend
‘do you see me’ i mourned into the deep red of late evening
having lost myself in the shadows
he turned his light mirror to me
showing the strength and beauty
in the reflection
i remembered my name
caressing first my face he placed in my hand
the skeletal head of a great sea bird
‘keep this to remember the parts of your self
you have found in the dark’
with wheels screeching we turned a corner into night
mile craving mile
we rode
he closed his eyes
weaving stories from my childhood
into his reverie
his grandmother there to receive them
we stopped and gave rock candy
to dark children following us
he told them he was crow
and would teach them to fly
mesmerized
i held my breath
as he gave each one lessons
a hint of feathers
gleaming under his jacket
he was cold
when he finished
and sat nourishing himself
with my body heat
the children flew off
in all directions
at the start of the engine
mile after mile
we rode
wandering and wondering
i made a map of where we’d been where we were headed confined he ripped it up jagged pieces flew away a family of flashing winds multiplying more wings silver then grey clouds of winds stirring wind into a tempest excited and frightened by the storm i jumped out onto the beach running turning turning not seeing ahead falling and turning back thrown from the truck by the gale he disappeared in a rush of black flight and separation even the truck vanished
mile dissolving mile
as we wash
ourselves clean
he cruises the landscape
a sleek dark bird
hunting
in repeating spirals
still hungry
i no longer watch the sky
miles pounding
in my soul
with eyes on fresh blacktop
i surrender the territory of innocence
aged by the sun’s longing for shadow
and seasoned by the scent of memories
alone
i have settled into my self
still traveling
mile remembering mile
in the later winter night
remembering miles
as i
wash myself
remembering miles
washing
miles of miles
washing
me
clean
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Sharon Lopez Mooney, ‘Secrets of a Journey’, in The MacGuffin, Vol.III Num I, ed. by Arthur J. Lindenberg, Volume II Number II, Fall 1988, Schoolcraft College, Livonia, Michigan, pp. 11-17