Abraham Terian: At Dusk Near Vayk (Armenia)

The valley is calmly receding into the shadows,
into the warm glow of respect left by the sun.
The scene around me is changing in slow motion
and the boulders are beginning to make sense.

In my ancestral land, in so many ways
I feel the grip the past holds on the present.
That moment near Vayk is still receding
into the past, the valley of eternal boulders.

November 3, 2004

Abraham Terian: The Steel Drum

He stood like a high priest, his
ebony hands against the steel;
he held the pair of sticks
like ceremonial crosses. With
gentle beats he blessed the bowl,
from east to west, the south
and the north of the rim,
every inch of the bottom. With
celestial sounds he rounded
the growing crowd, enchanted,
from one street corner to the next.
As celebrant he chimed
this inverted bell, censed
around this upended dome
of a cathedral in miniature
where angels descend, enamored,
to be baptized by human hands
in such a stainless bowl.

May 3, 2005

Abraham Terian: Nightfall on Ararat

Last night I watched the horizon melt;
there were cracks in the sky.
I heard the flare of colors,
the end of “Sabre Dance”.

Today I feel the embers of yesterday.
Just now faded the last of notes
from the melted strings
on the ashes of violins.

1988

This poem has appeared in VOICES literary magazine.

Abraham Terian: Playing Dvorak

I watched Dvorak go round and round
as the needle moved the hypnotic grooves;
I read his name more than a hundred times,
till he was reborn a whirling Dervish.

1993

Abraham Terian: South of Monterey

Click hear for the audio clip South of Monterey read by Lola Koundakjian.


With so many things common on my mind –
interlaced layers of memory and feeling –
I’m waiting like a catcher with a mitt
for the sinking sun.

In my mind I’m adding to the poetry of my time,
talking to myself with familiar, elegiac feeling;
my footprints in the sand a readable text
on longing and loss.

The sun is just about to kiss the yearning ocean,
to adjourn once more with a lingering embrace.
I’m watching jealously as seagulls cheer
the eternal lovers.

January 10, 2005

Abraham Terian: Dear Vincent

Yesterday I picked a few magnolias in half bloom
and thought of you, your countenance,
and then some. Your art is always on my mind,
you know. I’m enclosing a pressed blossom –
a little white and pink for your yellow and blue.

April 19, 2005