An Elegy to a Goddess

A sestina in memory of Diana Paulina 1946-2008

 

An Elegy to a Goddess

 

With naked feet and flowing hair like smoke,
She walks through the world, my goddess of Spring.
Each tender finger caresses, sprouting green
Shoots upon the earth. She is the master of life,
And indeed she has mastered it. You can smell

 

No fear upon her as she reaches the end of the path.

Oh and what of this twisting, turning path?
To most it seems uncertain, covered by fog and smoke,
But she chooses to see only beauty, touch only wisdom and smell
Only wonder- she is my wonder, my goddess of Spring
Who caught all my dreams in her work-worn hands, showed me green
Leaves, yellow buds, blue birds and all nature, all life.

 

From my rose colored view, I know no life can match her life,
No strength pass her strength. She led us all down the path
Of all paths. If I could only hear her voice again, I’d spring
At the chance to ask her everything: How to see beyond the green
Poisons of jealousy, mend a broken heart, douse the smoke
Of angry words and celebrate each day? How to smell

 

The medley of the seasons and know each distinct smell?
How to know if I must take hold of my own life,
Or let the wind take it instead? Ah, but as smoke
Trails from an extinguished candle, so her path
Trailed away from mine. My muse, my goddess of Spring,
My heart feels winter and I can see no green!

 

Yet all the time you were with me, it seemed only green
Woods and blue skies. I hope to catch your smell
Upon the wind after an April shower. I hope the path
I walk in life is half as fulfilling as yours, and when the smoke
Clears and I see the way, I hope that the life
Waiting for me is one that will make you proud. Spring

 

Is the memory I will keep of you: The freshwater spring
In your woods laps down tiny pebbles as green
Bursts of shade make dark patterns on the grass. Life
Shone from you like the beaming sun, the world’s smell
Clung to every thread of your skirt as you stood on the path,
Beckoning me. You are more than memory, more than smoke.

 

You are the tallest, greenest tree of spring.
You are the smell of excitement lining all our paths.
The thought of you is all I need when my life clouds with smoke.

 

Author's Note

Some of the lines are a little too long and I want to find a way to make all lines fairly equal in size. Any suggestions?