A Villanelle: Unfathomable Undersea Thoughts? Poem by Richard Blanch

To Aphrodite Anadyomene

Who can this be? How can night be bright? Why? Can I not tell?
All is ineffable. Shut my eyes, do not see, that is best,
How fine those eyes, how light those hands are, how firmly life can swell,

Come and go in the surging sea. But it sets the sunken bell,
Long submerged, hid deep, ringing, repeating questions in my breast:
Who can this be? How can night be bright? Why can I not tell

Why suddenly dark shines, why by day, long caught in a sea-shell
My soul whispers, wonders, urges: “Observe from this watery nest:
How fine those eyes, how light those hands are, how firmly life can swell

And stir suns into marvels.” Stay, I fear this. Will all be well
If I dare surface? Will I pass the test, be healed, confessed, caressed?
Who can this be? How can night be bright? Why can I not tell

Now I emerge, eyes down, what these sand-words mean? Can I not spell
The name before tide turns? At least I have half-glimpsed, half-witnessed
How fine those eyes, how light those hands are, how firmly life can swell,

Rise, conquer my frailty. Now I look up, reach out: sprint, swim, smell
Taste, write words, fly kites. I will embrace though still I have not guessed
Who this can be, how night can be bright. And now I can tell
How fine those eyes, how light those hands are, how firmly life can swell.