Poetry

Mason Trent

Still Wild the Wind

The wind is mischievous,
I met this breeze before,
The trees, tall and green,
 Make shadows dance.
Feel them swaying, bending,
   Rustling above me
They give a space of Peace.
    A cool touch on the skin,
       A widening of mind,
          A clearing of thoughts.
Still wild the wind,
   Laughs through their limbs,
       Elemental Jester,
          Whispering secrets over my head.

Shadow Angel

(after Rilke)

Shadow angel of my world
Tread lightly
Your steps deceive me
For once you must have been light
But you would fold me in your dark splendor
 For how else would light return?
And to me would seem false that I could still find light
But it is in my smallness I am lost.
And your shadow has reawakened a fire in my soul.
My wish for strength then failed me.
But your ephemeral garb calls me on
unseen
And clouds thunder in your Elysian wake
Showing me strength now…
Sorrow has shadowed the sunrise
Once burning bright inside.  
Now I see sorrow is the fan of your darkwing…
Over ash And embers…
There is no knowing your mystery
Great angel…
I only follow trailing light
The stars are more clear and bright
In your darkest night
Oh dearest closest, shadow angel!

CARIBBEAN TIDE

Guided by dolphins, the sands of time
Took me on a Carribean Tide with friends.
Clear down to the toes!
The colors are true! (In every shade!)
The Bold Rooster of Key West crossed his road.
Cayman Tales…
Shiny, bright-eyed grackles in full song…
Left my shoes with ghosts of pirates,
Near the beauty of the water.
Slipped by waterfalls under tropical green,
Down to a Jamaica Beach.
Beware the Market Road!
A Frigate bird sails the cloudy skies.
The last of stormy seas rock us to sleep…
And across the floor!
Awake to Bahamas! (and some sun)
Another day of beach: pods of snorklers and standing-surf-boarders,
Gathered in the water, where para-sails go by.
Sit in a chair, take a float,wait in long line to boat…
And ship.
Time for Native Flute (Good for every port!)
The ship is near, raise a cheer!
Onboard…Maybe a show!
Dancers,singers ready to go.
Don’t be late! “Hey! Don’t walkout!”
(“45 minutes since you last ate???!!”)
Ah, breakfast by Windows of sea!
In our room, a balcony!
Towel animals! (friendly porter)
Walk the decks But…
Music Maker awaits! A Fine Duo!
Don’t miss them! New friends!
Think I’ll dance!
The night is ending.
“Spirit” turns leaving memories in the morning sun.
Port calls us home

The Long Way

(after walking on the High Line, NYC)

Walk the Long Way, Sky-Garden-view
Ghost whistle echoes down the tree-tracks,
   Present grows over Past,
      The only cargo, memories,
         Bridging over city streets.
Boats peek through on the path.
The “IQ building” stops,
    He’s All for Love
    (Relatively Speaking)
Capture yourself in flowers,
   Shady benches beckon,
      Fountains wait,
         The young band plays.
Here on the road where lovers might stroll.
   I could sleep ’twas it safe,
       Nestled in green,
          Over the rumble, Under the lights
While childhood places whisper,
    Looking out to the water.

Mason Trent is a poet, professional dancer and a storyteller. She started writing poetry and prose from a very young age. And has memorized and recited poems from Shakespeare to Rilke. Every year she is published as a guest of City College in their publication, “Poetry in Performance.” In 2009 she made a CD of “imaginary folk” story songs (“From Somewhere,”) written on her little papoose guitar. She also loves playing her Native American flute, live music, Nature, coaching students in dance and spending time with good friends.