a poetry e-zine










Poems By Cynthia Ruth Lewis

How much is missed within the breath
of whispers, the silence that precedes
confession, obsession; an endearment lost
in translation somewhere between the
movement of my lips and the delicate
shell of your ear

Never able to hear clearly; the vowels
turning themselves inside-out, tumbling
through consonants, parts of speech clouded,
misunderstood, facial animation of strangers
never matching tone of voice; communication avoided

I try, carefully, sounding words into your
ear; the hum and hiss of tongue and whisper,
syllables and sibilance curving through
canals, scrambled sounds the membranes
cannot grasp; sense cannot adhere

With timid patience, my eyes, my touch finds
a place where words cannot reach, someplace
you don't need sounds to know meaning;
the push of breath and heart beating,
the last measured tones, gentle rippling
of overturned stones beginning to break
surface, to hone realization, a quiet
revelation; a spark, a flash of bright light
in your eyes to guide us further down that road...

tonight, there is a sun rising,
somewhere near the center of you

(appeared in Mad Poet's Review)

Cynthia Ruth Lewis is 41, hails from Chicago, and has been writing on and off for the past 20 years, only in the past few having seriously submitted her work to various online and print 'zines. Her poems have appeared in Underground Voices, Cerebral Catalyst, Remark, Nerve Cowboy, Red Fez, and many more.

Copyright 2008  Chantarelle's Notebook