The first time you
watch an octopus climb
a wall, take steps, use
flailing tentacles to travel
across the boundary of the two worlds…
Ignoring it, ignoring all that is real, known, righteous,
ignoring the boundary,
That world, becomes this world, becomes one world,
becomes ours…
So too
As I stumbled
medieval alleyways old gray
brick, rough cut, smoothed by
time and primitive tools.
I was taught that castles
were a thing of the past,
of another time, another
world, and it is so, yet
the cobble stones are wet,
and the wind whips around
the corner, and the garbage
is rotting and I am
there.
So too
When I in my
madness round corners, manic,
talking to myself, dancing, conducting
the invisible choir, the chorus
symphony, melody, harmony
rhythm in my steps along
the cobble stone,
and much to my surprise
my inner tenor, is echoing
off these castle walls.
I stand shocked, I stand delighted,
It takes a moment to
recognize that tentacles serve multiple functions with
the same
purpose –to propel.
And similarly the heart can play a
rhythm, aligned with
a world outside it.
So I was propelled forward
to meet my match,
and in the medieval
castle walls, gray, cold
dank, I also found
warm blood, melodic, pulsing
and my heart took
the pace and lead me
round a corner, till I
saw them
A quartet of bohemians.
A fado singer, an upright bass player,
a violinist, a simple drum kit,
the castle walls the
amplifier, the church bells
the signal, the back drop,
the cobbled heart,
I collapsed as much as
I pulsated. This was
a magic
merging of worlds…
So too
Was I left
a bit larger and a bit
empty.
How to return to cleaner,
safer surroundings.
I’ve seen the sea rise up,
I’ve seen the past rise up,
I’ve seen the rhythm of my heart
played on the strings of
a bass below the cathedral,
on the lips of a foreigner
my song echoed
through eternal walls,
carried by cold wind
corridors, smoothing the gray stones…
How do I go on…
without a one to share this?
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