National Poetry Month entry
Apr. 7th, 2008 12:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coyotegothSonnet LXXXI
And now you're mine. Rest with your dream in my dream.
Love and pain and work should all sleep, now.
The night turns on its invisible wheels,
and you are pure beside me as a sleeping amber.
No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams. You will go,
we will go together, over the waters of time.
No one else will travel through the shadows with me,
only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.
Your hands have already opened their delicate fists
and let their soft drifting signs drop away; your eyes closed like two gray
wings, and I move
after, following the folding water you carry, that carries
me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.
-Pablo Neruda
Icarus, and after
Arise, my heart, like an angel
Kiss the sunset
Embrace the dawn
Revel with each strange moment that lies between.
Pay no heed to time, measurer and tyrant,
That would seek to have us
Know our limits too well-
To pull up short of the mountain's peak.
We all know, or soon enough, will come to know,
the cold embrace of end.
It's there- now forget it.
Cast off the smothering embrace of ground, and look beyond.
We all of us have felt what it is to fall.
Who among us will have known
the painful joy of flight?
Evanescence
And when I think of you, I see you dance
by your television's flickering light,
expressing through movement all that you feel.
These memories keep me warm in the dark,
and how I wish for better testament
than these few foolish, lonely, loving words.
Through distance, we first reached out with our words
flickering fingers make the cursor dance.
So few saved exchanges as testament-
and yet, reading them, my heart becomes light,
remembering shared laughter in the dark.
How un-lonely typing alone can feel.
Almost from the beginning, you could feel
illness, threatening an end to your words.
You needed your strength, to stay out of the dark.
Now, when you wrote, your cursor would not dance
with the same effortless laughter and light.
Memory would serve as your testament.
Oh, how you'd laugh if you saw this testament-
"Oh, poet, how intensely you must feel,"
you'd say, your smile shining like a light.
I'm not fooled. When I left, you'd read the words
afresh, and your eyes would glisten and dance.
Proof, if for a moment, against the dark.
But even with that succor, it grew dark;
your silences became mute testament
that there comes an end to every dance.
Even then, though, you thought of how we'd feel;
to the end, you ensured that our shared words
spoke of laughter, of comfort, and of light.
And oh, I'm glad you're free of pain; the light
you shared with us remains against the dark,
even as silence takes the place of your words.
Sweet warrior, your love is testament.
One day, my friend, the gentlest touch I'll feel,
then we'll step out onto the floor, and dance.
These patterns of light serve as testament
that even in the dark, there is love to feel.
And now, no more words. Someday, we shall dance.
And now you're mine. Rest with your dream in my dream.
Love and pain and work should all sleep, now.
The night turns on its invisible wheels,
and you are pure beside me as a sleeping amber.
No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams. You will go,
we will go together, over the waters of time.
No one else will travel through the shadows with me,
only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.
Your hands have already opened their delicate fists
and let their soft drifting signs drop away; your eyes closed like two gray
wings, and I move
after, following the folding water you carry, that carries
me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.
-Pablo Neruda
Icarus, and after
Arise, my heart, like an angel
Kiss the sunset
Embrace the dawn
Revel with each strange moment that lies between.
Pay no heed to time, measurer and tyrant,
That would seek to have us
Know our limits too well-
To pull up short of the mountain's peak.
We all know, or soon enough, will come to know,
the cold embrace of end.
It's there- now forget it.
Cast off the smothering embrace of ground, and look beyond.
We all of us have felt what it is to fall.
Who among us will have known
the painful joy of flight?
Evanescence
And when I think of you, I see you dance
by your television's flickering light,
expressing through movement all that you feel.
These memories keep me warm in the dark,
and how I wish for better testament
than these few foolish, lonely, loving words.
Through distance, we first reached out with our words
flickering fingers make the cursor dance.
So few saved exchanges as testament-
and yet, reading them, my heart becomes light,
remembering shared laughter in the dark.
How un-lonely typing alone can feel.
Almost from the beginning, you could feel
illness, threatening an end to your words.
You needed your strength, to stay out of the dark.
Now, when you wrote, your cursor would not dance
with the same effortless laughter and light.
Memory would serve as your testament.
Oh, how you'd laugh if you saw this testament-
"Oh, poet, how intensely you must feel,"
you'd say, your smile shining like a light.
I'm not fooled. When I left, you'd read the words
afresh, and your eyes would glisten and dance.
Proof, if for a moment, against the dark.
But even with that succor, it grew dark;
your silences became mute testament
that there comes an end to every dance.
Even then, though, you thought of how we'd feel;
to the end, you ensured that our shared words
spoke of laughter, of comfort, and of light.
And oh, I'm glad you're free of pain; the light
you shared with us remains against the dark,
even as silence takes the place of your words.
Sweet warrior, your love is testament.
One day, my friend, the gentlest touch I'll feel,
then we'll step out onto the floor, and dance.
These patterns of light serve as testament
that even in the dark, there is love to feel.
And now, no more words. Someday, we shall dance.
