Sharon Auberle

Pounding on the roof
like jungle drums,
rain strips branches bare,
twists leaves in the wind,
while inside we sleep
curled around each other
like great cats craving warmth
in a world gone to ice.

I am dreaming of dancing
with a tiger who says,
I embrace the mystery of your eyes,
and his great paws rest lightly
on my shoulders until I wake
to find you pulling me closer,
stretching long against me,
not quite awake, yet enough
to murmur of musky dreams,
burrow deep beside me,
as we preen and purr and lick
these tender beasts that we are.

Act of Contrition

The curtain brushes her skin
as she steps behind
the purple velvet cloth,
its weight hot and heavy
like the sins told
in this bare closet.
She kneels upon the hard bench,
whispering as the grate slides open—
bless me father, for I have sinned,
and begins to speak her shame
of touch and thoughts
and guilt in the opening door
of her young, racing soul.
She feels a stirring in the air,
faint cinnamon breath
drifts through the grate,
a disembodied voice
whispers back of sin, remorse,
of penance to be done,
forgiveness sought
and she bows her head in contrition,
mumbling the words that will save,
for a little while, this tarnished soul,
this body already ablaze
with thoughts of tonight:
the back seat of his '57 Chevy,
sleek, summer bodies,
hot kisses stroking her
like the purple velvet sky
falling around them.

Sharon Auberle

Artist's Statement:

In a lifetime filled with art and poetry, I was never able to choose a focus. Mistakenly, it seemed important to concentrate on only one, in order to best learn and flourish. As a result, I did neither, and my creativity was frustrated and unfulfilled. Then I met a talented painter/poet who said that art feeds the writing, and writing feeds the art. I've only recently found this to be true.

Both art and poetry provide the outlet for expression of current emotions. Sometimes I'm aware of these feelings, sometimes not. The artistic images are more of an unconscious expression. Their meanings may not readily appear--like night dreams--images that arise from the deep. For example, I have a great many photographs and will often go through them to see what grabs my attention at that time. The reason often is elusive, but by focusing on the image--using it, for instance, on my blog--words, phrases, messages frequently follow. A poem may emerge that simply waited until I saw the image. This is my creative joy--to follow that angel or devil muse and see where it leads, be surprised, and learn new things about myself.

Poetry, on the other hand, often relates to specific incidents that I'm trying to work through, such as my poem After the Storm. After writing a poem, I'll then search for a photo or other image which relates to it. This process may produce/stimulate a different perspective or alter the poem content.

As a Pisces, my inner self is really a vast ocean of never ending waves filled with those damn fish swimming in opposite directions. Some days I'm on the crest, some days in the trough, but the water, and my life, is never flat...

Bio: Sharon Auberle is a writer and visual artist. Her work has appeared in various publications and anthologies, including WomanPrayers, published by HarperSan Francisco, and Literary Lunch by University of Tennessee Press.

Her visual art, in multiple forms is, and has been, shown in galleries and shows.

Mimi's Golightly Café, the artist's personal website, presents her most recent interests--poetry and photography.

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