Let me imagine you coming home
from the dark, between body and mind,
making evidence of yourself
the way a tree waves up from its shadow.
There are dinner-halls you have silenced
with a single spark of wit,
there are men you have governed
through pure scent, pure posture.
Now for your most difficult trick:
to restart a life that ends by turning into gold.
In September (the month that tends to all others)
let me be able to conjure your best side,
to have some kind of grip on the intactness
of living, the way mirrors do.
A brilliant piece of poetry, well articulated and insightfully brought forth in heightened poetic diction with conviction. Thanks for sharing James.
Superb lines (for this station) but a bit disconnected. Obliges the reader to reel it all in and rest content. MM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I loved the lines..there are men you have governed/through pure sent, pure posture. Fabulous imaginative skills..Congrats..!