for Michael Baron
I am between moon and tide, between whisper and scream. When I was a child, had still the script of child. when I was hostage to my mother's pomegranat smile, when I looked from the window to the full light of the garden watching the practical philosophy of hands plucking the fruit tree, in those times, when we still heard the sounds of frogs, when women passed through my life and the lake was blue, I knew the value of blue. I understand there is pain, too, on the steps of life. On the day of existence, the wind rose up to meet me. Resistance sat like dew on the grass, meeting my feet. Ripe fires grew across my body and doves - - my feelings were met by the rustle of their wings. In spring's demeanor I hear the sounds of cleaning, the footsteps of plains and mountains, I hear the law of snow, melting. Earth grows damp in my memory. Fruit ripens. Stone's habitual weight grows light, makes it flow and tremble as it wishes. In my place between trouble and well-being I hear the song of happiness from the world as good will blossomes. 'Life does not lie,' I say. 'It does not lie!'
From Geldim Sana
translated by C. Stockford, Feb 2020