For Saraswati - the Watery One
Too much poetry for such a small island
please don't write anymore
plant trees
and water Gür Ceng
I add voice to the plosive
Not knowing if it is bursting in or bursting out
And liquid follows g r g r g r
Air passes and I pout my lips
And push my tongue to shape the breath
To catch the vision hidden in the syllable
Neither u not i
Not front nor back
in the slippage of a dream
You give me a code to find you
But one of the number drops into obscurity.
A secret hand offers the missing link
Without my bidding
But if I reach out and call
Do I know what tongues will speak?
Instead I send my messengers to fetch you
When they bring you
I do not know your face
I only know the feeling
And touching your hair
I verify it is truly the weed of your lover the sea
If you really come,
then why do you remain silent?
I now know you are not geng - names lie
You are old as the sea
And the shiv
The ancient dancer
You beckon the silence
That speaks before and after the aa
the uu
and the mm.
I wait for poetry.
Or do I really wait for water?
I close my eyes
I recite the mantra -
gür - gür - gür February 2004
