Don't hesitate when a passing thought
shows a flashing potential. You know
you must follow it in hot pursuit,
with the hope you can keep its light
not just alive but intense as your
mortal hands cradle its fragile existence
in captivity. Don't rush these moments.
Your hands know the work of nurture:
they go about it without a false move
and soon there is a new light shining
in the darkness that every night
spills around us in a pool of confusion,
but grants us new hope in the light
we saved from falling into oblivion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a beautiful one Daniel. The words alone are pretty and the imagined image or idea that one must catch resonates with me. It makes me think of the twilight time when the conscious and unconscious mind mingle together and fleeting ideas emerge to be caught like fireflies. I hope your catch all your best words and images so they can make it to paper. Oblivion is bottomless. I like the line about darkness spilling around you in a pool of confusion. Thanks for sharing this one. Now, I have a request: I want a narrative series...like the Port Trakl collection, but a different setting this time...maybe in St. Paul? ;)
Thank you, a double thank you, Pam, for these wonderful words of appreciation. Pam, I love your description of twilight (I walked through Salem Hill in a pale red twilight last week; and last night I watched fireflies below me from my balcony.) as a mingling of minds.