THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

'White Lady'  by  Trish

(A man is having an imaginary conversation with his mother) 'Yes it is a fine day, you've always loved spring, dear mother.
On a day like this I often see the Indian Sisters,
moving along the busy streets of Fitzroy.
Their blue and white saris, soft and flowing.
Smiles for all who cross their path.

Someone was bashed in this lane last night.
They had come for me, but as I was in the darkest place of all.
They could not see  me, so they chose another

Do you recall, yesterday, when the Indian sisters passed, 

how I pleaded with them?

'Help me sisters, I've got devils in my head and in my heart.'

How I cried out, 'Sisters would one of you, swap souls with me, for just one second? Sisters?'

I love  to see the sweet breeze catch, their swathes of blue and white cotton, wave them like playful hands, 'God loves you' they sing as they pass, 'God loves you.'

And who do I love? I yield fully, completely to only one,  my 'White Lady.'

It is she who sleeps upon my breast,

it is she who fills the breach. It is she who wets my lips,

singes, sears and numbs my tongue, my gut,

breathes  fully  her vapour of whiteness into my shivering body.

She is like burning metal, she is fickle, she is a jealous lover,

But she will embrace me forever, against all forces, even yours dear mother,

She and I sleep as one, as soul mates,

in the nightmares, of the darkest place.

Tushie