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| photo by Jeanloup Seiff |
I am nurse to the Water,
Moon in a bowl at its bedside.
It looks back at me as if to say, "I am here,
deep and permanent; I will always stay,"
but its language is Leaving and every movement
is a perpetual going-away.
I am bride to the Lake Grass
expending itself in a season's rising.
silent and thin, the Water its artist's garret.
It finds me neither interesting nor surprising
as I see to its unbordered house,
my face a familiar detail that passes.
Are you dying, Water, a Gypsy in love with sand--
the sand in love with and holding the Cattails?
I make my rounds on the wooden walkway,
Child of trees the Lake Grass envies.
Death beneath my feet, mercy at my hand
I am the Double-Spirit who must be her own comfort
and work by Night, the sister-ghost of Day.
________
for The Sunday Muse #237.
Music: Roseanne Cash Seven Year Ache
Our water needs all the care givers who are willing. When it's gone there is no more.
ReplyDelete..
Shay, as often happens when I read your poetry, I feel unqualified to comment on it. This reads magically.
ReplyDelete~David
Like ben Alexander, I am often at a loss for words at the scope, beauty and magic of your poems. Those opening lines had me in a swoon......."Moon in a bowl at its bedside" - oh, my! I feel the sadness in this address to water - I live in a rainforest where it hasnt really rained since last winter.
ReplyDeletebut its language is
ReplyDeleteLeaving and every movement
is a perpetual going-away.
Just how elusive water is! Great wordcraft Shay as always, love it!
Hank
Shay, What a provocative image, being nurse to the water, an image as elusive as water slipping away, "its Language is leaving": echoes of Heraclitus.
ReplyDeleteYour poetry always makes me feel like I have witnessed a miracle at church Shay! The first lines are a wealth of visuals that stick with the mind and heart! Your poem takes from the image it's essence and then pulls us even further into the path! The water, the the trees, and the ghosts of loss! Amazing writing as always my friend!
ReplyDeleteGorgeous. This makes me feel that the next time I'm on a path, every part of the land around will be more visible.
ReplyDeleteMagical :)
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful, as ever, Shay. The juxtaposition of images and conversations between things is magical and makes me feel as if I'm privy to something special. Love the whole of that second stanza especially. The moon in the bowl making empty promises, its language a perpetual going-away <3
ReplyDeleteExquisite, Shay. from beginning to end, evocative and full of blue depths and its own unbordered houses that the narrator has within. The second and final stanzas are my favorites.
ReplyDeleteExcellent piece as can be expected Shay. Love the way your visions gallop off in fascinating directions, far reaching to wonderful images, to round it all up on a metaphysical landscape at which all can wonder and personally consider. The ride is always interesting my friend.
ReplyDeleteFrom Helen. How perfectly you captured the photo’s elements in this poem .. each of them. This is a beauty, Shay.
ReplyDelete"Death beneath my feet, mercy at my hand
ReplyDeleteI am the Double-Spirit who must be her own comfort"
So much depth to this, Shay! If it could the photo would thank you.