.:Nereid:.

:Rhode, long lost, reaches open Ocean:

rocks roaring on the rough-beaten coast,
and i, atop the highest possible point
--- gazing down.

the low, roiling roll drags
at my ears, my mind my
throat --- over
and over and over and over
and over; the silence rings
audibly, my gut stretched taut
as the substance of which I'm made
plucks at me, softly
lapping, saying 'Come',
then ---
backing away, slowly
~beckoning~
as it washes out (wave by wave) the defined feet
of criss-crossing birds and beasts --- ]hu[man's best friend,
four-legged, and the rays of He]lios[
who ought to have been my own companion... now
Obliterated:
smoothed.

Peace in my troubled mind.

...and then, again his long, low voice
crashes round me, plays
my heart strings with
Unutterably deep knowledge,

saying 'Come,
you belong here...

Creature of the Sea.'

10/27/05 5.02 pm
edit: 2/14/06 12.40 pm
edit: 5/11/06 3.22 pm london

~*~~**~~*~

Pablo Neruda

Poetry


And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.