'Quiet Waters'
Bryce & Photoshop
In stillness made of dew and green,
we attend and hear only the music
of a tree that stands beside like solitary
kin to our very own solitude. We survey
these shores of memory for a lifetime,
yours and mine, where water knows
no spirit that crosses it, crosses from
homeless grassy banks to shelter. The
infinite water, that makes dread increase
over our lives, pulls them deeper and
deep to live or die, or deeper to love.
Do not strike the pose of clarity in this
morning sun, but beg pardon of the sky
that you transform from darkness to light.
Knowledge makes no possession of this
place and shelter remains no more than
salvation or a tomb. To the victim of
silence, all love is hypocrisy, no more
than dry-bedded, a betrayal lost.
But I bid you, instead, lest you die
too soon, make the stars give birth to
wonder again. Our glances across
this secrecy of water are merely the
call of desperate eyes. We have crossed
many miles and miles of nothing we
care to know, believed what we needed
as this quiet, present place spoke from
afar and a distant storm was its torment,
its invention. To love means something;
in time one takes even a shadow for the
soul. And here the morning makes us
gentle, makes us sleep, makes us hybrid
of every blessed memory while morning
wears an ordinary mask, a visage of love.
Do not fear that religion condemns
your birth as sin. There’s an enemy in
your sleep, to be sure, and no one knows
his name; he is more than the birthing
rains concede. Although the angels, who
guard our madness, have not said too
much of late, nor given reason why two
trees stand shore to shore and mean the
same, nor made sense of why these
shelters of stone may be tombs for the
living, the boat shows ready for
elsewhere. It sails out to sea, in our
wisdom hearts, as muted it sits forever
still on quiet waters that anchor deep.
The water too makes anchor of you and
I and nothing more dies for now, only
darkness, divided from this sun. We
stand forever on this side, a mystery
and shelter in ourselves. Perhaps we
shall cross over to return again, or
there we shall stay, awaited and unseen.
- Poem ©2003 James Strecker -
All images protected by copyright ©Andy Simmons 1995-2003
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