Hope

When it was dark and lonely
stars floated on the water
And the moon hid the owl
Under the sleeves of her long
white robe, we set sail

As the darkness rose and fell
with the tides and the wavering
Oars – the eyes glinted beneath
Eyes of fishes, fishes
Fishes never close their eyes
Down by the whirpools,
the jaded out solitudes became
one with God, and clung to the
nothingness, and we set sail

Layers of darkness had gathered
over the night sky, accumulated
throughout the centuries, as little
men and women were busy
knitting the history of the night
Darkness is nothing but the robe
of the King of night, solitude
is his crown, and eternity is his skeptre
We rowed through the night
Silence fell like raindrops from
the starlight,
The stars – they stay
close to the kingdom of dreams,
Dreams floated on around us,
Like the halo around the moon
In the waters we could see
the blazing image of Prometheus
His eyes were burning with the
Passion he had stolen from Zeus
And we rowed on…

The waters trembled between
our oars like the absurd happiness
of Sisyphus when he saw the stone
rolling down
The world rested on our palms,
And hope and faith rested on our
dusty boot-heels,
We were the faithless fanatics
In search of light, love and happiness
Like a drop of rain from the
heart of the steadfast firmament
Waiting for Oedipus to sigh and say :
“I conclude that all is well”

The night, the darkness, the solitude
and the starlit waters revolved round
one single moment – and that moment
of bodhi came down like
all the love that comes down from
the heavens to the earth to proclaim
the Kingdom of Eternity in our hearts...
And God said – Let there be Light
And there was Light, Twilight,
dotting the first pages of the Day,
Green, fading by our borders
Visible through the canvas
of the same Flesh and Blood
That makes up the Divine world
That makes up the tombstones
That makes up the First Light,
the First Sight, the First Sound

We saw an old man
digging the dust for gold
We saw a child
sweeping the blue skies
for a penny
And we saw a primrose
dancing all by herself
We heard the innocence of
the breeze over the forlorn
passes of the Himalayas,
We heard the mournful songs
of Philomela, songs about
long lost kingdoms and dreams…

Such were the first Sights
and Sounds of the Day that
was destined to fly on the wings
of the nascent Hope…

We thanked Pandora as we rested our oars
The shores were new and green