His Heart Cries as He Tries to Paint His Way Home

He is frozen here, painting a chaos of color,
red burns into orange easing over her
polished pewter shoulders, strength of his patron’s will,
the reason he is alive, she her help inspires him.

He is a desert rat drowning in the help of wealthy
western sponsors, their passion fueled his flight,
how they came to love him cannot be remembered,
only that it was the white hot escape into this freedom.

They placed him close in this unbroken country
of flash and liberty recklessly wasted in
this youngster of a nation, that breaks his heart again
as it forgets to remember the inhale of freedom.

He tries to seize their mettle, lay thick warrior red
over the canvas, but the generosity spreads as sand extending
all directions, covering his endless desert journey
from his beloved city, his Jerusalem.

Maybe, maybe when the paint is dry,
the aching will release him and his children
to let go of home, the land of their blood,
their dreams pushing against a forbidden return.

Maybe finally his palette will display this new neon life
gifted him in spite of his constant yearning,
and allow him to plant his bare feet on the land
of his birth, his mother and lover, their Jerusalem.

Sharon Lopez Mooney is a retired Interfaith Chaplain from The End of Life field, lives in Mexico, and visits family in northern California. Mooney received a California Arts Council Grant for a rural poetry series; co-published a regional arts anthology; co-owned an alternative literature service; produced poetry readings.

Mooney’s poems are published in: Glassworks Magazine, Soul-Lit, The Avalon Literary Review, Galway Review, Ginosko Literary Journal, California Quarterly, The Ricochet Review, Roundtable Literary Journal, and other publications, as well as such anthologies as Calyx: Women and Aging; Cold Lake; Smoke & Myrrors (UK), among others.