(for all the brothas who have never seen the sea)
then start another search
somewhere out there rocking in the slow current
a crescent of shadow and crystal
deeper into blue towards night
something free and almost asleep
dipping an errant hand into the cool water
soundless miles in blue echoing indigo
and the accumulative panes of evening
spectrum the bay up to dusk darkness
what remains of sun is small white
almost moonsheer on the bay side
of the roofs and houses
weeds at the roadside open their hands
cats holding still on pier posts
you have found everything here in the throesof prayer
somewhere your people are searching
those responsible for you
in the reasoning before panic
still calm but quickening
sent by the clocks
they despair
but
take this hour breath by breath
forming stars
let each cell chant in the shrill black of your skin
the world bounding into a candlelit cathedral
hidden in the pews a few disparate pious women pray
the floor a luminous sea marbled silver
subtle exchange of blues and silence
a single plane with a slow flashing light
glints across the cathedral ceiling
far out beyond compasses
night comes across the radio sea
stars arrive
moonlit fishing boats in ghana
come with the day’s catch
the last rituals slow the people to laughter
shirtless among men you
moving nets up the beach
a village singing and waiting
your journey into light at the edge of the world
you cannot understand what they are saying
their laughter more in the heart than in the ear
but you are here
and have been here all day extending
your body into the clear current
and maybe all your life asleep in their company
no translation for the half moon and bright rust of sun
or of the sea blackening and exhaling stars
or the faceless villagers who invite you to rest….
turning inland
how will you tell your baptist people
of the new face of god?
3 comments:
I read all your poems they are so descriptive so visual you take the reader there...im jealous...wish i had your gift of words.
gretchen
no u can't taste the apple lol
I read all your poems they are so descriptive so visual you take the reader there...im jealous...wish i had your gift of words.
gretchen
no u can't taste the apple lol
I read all your poems they are so descriptive so visual you take the reader there...im jealous...wish i had your gift of words.
gretchen
no u can't taste the apple lol
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