DWIGHT BITIKOFER

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The Poetry Of...
Dwight Bitikofer.............................................

Christmas Sunset On The Way Home

Into the sunset windshield glare
southwest ahead blaze orange-red
Sunglasses darken the shadows away
from the splay of rays ending this day

At speeds of about 80,
scrub cedars and cattle on side of a hill
blur through my eyewear until we flash past
in an instant of discernment on the way home

Toward home on a mission, an annual tradition
to gather at Christmas, eat and exchange gifts,
to let go of rifts from the past, to sing with the faithful and old
carol renditions to herald the silent night of joy

And then, the sun is gentler now
settling red onto broad horizon
lighting cirrus clouds that fly
in ribbons orange and dark across the sky

The disc of red settles now, drops below
the far horizon leaving in its wake
a fireworks of clouds exploding pink, orange and red
that flare into deepening dusk

Driving forward, following the shining beacon
of Venus suspended in the western sky
And car lights swoop from distant hills
below the traces of sunset fading

We drive on - a wing sweeps low and fast
between our headlights and the truck ahead
Owl, hawk, angel - who can know?
We go home where destiny calls

Where age and illness foretell the end of days
as we have known them - parents always there
We care, but haven't always known to show it
And now the colors fade this Christmas evening

Lights burn softly - the old dog wags her welcome
and the cats crowd the back porch door
We enter - one son and three grandchildren nearly grown
bearing gifts - we've come to home

Affair of Hearts

If I were braver I'd call you
and say: Hey!
I still think of you
and tonight I remembered
your face that night I held you
on the parking lot for an hour
while a waning moon rose toward midnight

I'd e-mail you and say
I wonder how your life
has evolved
is your spirit still so free?

I'd write you and say
I learned so much
about walking on water
... and sinking when I tried to understand

I learned I could be loved
I learned that my God
might have more wonderful
things in store
if I let go
and experienced
an unadorned moment of being

I'd ask you to walk with me
by the river at lunch
and tell you
I'm happier now
but still sad
that the ending was never defined

that last night we hugged
and you drove away in the snow
your kids tucked into their car seats
home to your husband
- I lit the candle you gave me
and prayed your safe journey

I loved you, you know,
out of my wounds
and into yours
(they seemed to fit so perfectly)
and I needed to learn to love me first

I'm a little afraid still
that I'd sing that
"love can build a bridge
between your heart and mine"
and that
"the river would try to tell us all it knows"

and maybe the truth would flood
the bottomlands of my soul:
that I am here
and you perfectly there

Screech Owl

From the deck steps of the new house

At the edge of sound
almost imagined - almost real -
a screech owl calls,
gathers the dusk
in soundless trios of trills

I smile because I believe
what I thought I may have heard.

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