A PLACE IN THE SUN |
Poems
|
Renaissance |
In
the mellow sun of Florence afternoon
a
fat monk laughed at my leannes:
"un
po' di pasta, fratello!"
Having
walked in the footsteps of Mihelangelo
I
listened to a revolutionary freak,
who
foamed at Ponte Vecchio
and
I saw the city glory fade
in
the fiery sermons of Savonarola
when
I breathed the tense air of his room
in
San Marcos monastery
I
beheld the creation of the world from the Mount Sinai,
renascent
I
A
PLACE (longing, emptiness, absence)
In
the beginning
*
To
be
in
consciousness, in memory,
in
passive consciousness,
in
things that flow through the mind
Places,
people (places first, then people)
*
Thirty
years ago, night
Streets
of a small town, dark market square
In
the whole universe, just that square,
only
that square
Across
that square in the dark night
Total
silence
I
kick a loose stone in the centre of the square
It
skips, dances and laughs
*
To
be
in
memories and in the vacuum of the now
Yet
to be everywhere
where
I have been and left
my
figerprints in the consciousness of the universe
disturbing
it (ŽDo I dare disturb the universeŽ), yes
*
Empty
market-square
Wide
as all deserts of the world together
Houses
unreachable
You
unreachable
I
kick the stone in the middle of the square
The
stone skips, dances and laughs
It
breaks the silence of the universe
*
To
exist:
a
joy, a burden or
all
the states of experience,
of
cosciousness in between these
Reality,
experienced with different degrees of consciousness
which
opens to dazzling vistas,
which
threatens to crush
under
its weight
*
From
beneath the bright surface of the lake,
from
the deep green in its depths
the
water-lilies rise
like
dreams from the depths of the mind
bright
as their flowers
*
O
childhood,
O
consciousness wiuthout flaws or cracks
free
form the strain of memories and experience
How
totally everything then
was
absorbed to me,
became
part of me
*
I
lose myself here
in
my childhood forest,
its
happy, mysterious deep green,
in
warmth of the sun by the lake,
where
from underneath the clear face of the water
stones,
pebbles and small fish shimmer
among
the waterweeds
My
childhood dream has a scent of
summer
forest and of joy
*
The
sky of my childhood homeyard
The
blue shell of a sparrows egg
blue
of hope
Playground
of angels
romping
in a childs thoughts
*
In
the sky. in the heights of deep blue
the
walls of the lofty castles of clouds
The
red of the pines towering trunks glows
from
the edge of the forest
as
majestic music
Deep
peace and joy
as
I have risen from the water
I
have returned to the joy of my childhood
to
its unbroken peace
*
Today
many
memories float in
the
troubled waters of my mind
Lands,
places, peolple, scents
Everything
in a motley jumble
heap
of dissociated pictures
without
the glow and wholeness
which
the first impressions
of
my childhood had
A literary paraphrase to Ralph Vaughan Williams' composition Fantasia |
on a theme by Thomas Tallis |
1
Morning
fog on the sea;
greenish-grey
main, rocky islands; solitary forms,
shaped
by winds and sea;
stout
pines, twisted by storms
rise
to the light: branches as in prayer.
2
Wind
wakes in the reeds, rushes in the trees;
awesome
harmony of light scent sound touch
is
suddenly rushing as waves in the air, above the sea
capturing
the whole of consciousness.
3
Rocky
islands; grey, smoothed by rain and wind,
forms
as the deep roar of the contrabasses and cellos;
deep
roar or throb, subterranean staccato;
mighty
boulders sleeping in an aquamarine dream.
4
Then:
a man and a woman,
a
duet of a cello and a violin;
they
sit and and hear a bird singing,
the
wind rushing, the hymn of the sea;
they
sing in a slow, swaying harmony, gentle.
They
hear God's grandeur on the sea,
His
mighty breath moving among the rocks and trees,
through
the birds' throats in the trees.
From
their breast, answering, rises a mighty wave of music;
it
sways in the brain as water; it moves from their spirit
to
the natural, from the natural to their spirit;
the
music writes itself down on a paper.
Their
hands rise up in praise as conducting orchestra;
following
the free course of the sea-gulls they fly
in
the music of their mind to the blue sky.
On a performance of the same composition, by the London Musicale |
in Temppeliaukio Church, Helsinki |
Before floating into the space
of pure, translucent
waves
of music
somber
rocks constrain the staccato of contrabasses.
The
copper ceiling reflects dimly but passionately
the
glow of sound, mysterious, as through stained glass;
(Christe
qui lux est et dies)
the
setting sun of the cellos.
A
dim glow, mysterious;
the
gray rocks of the coasts of Wales,
where
the sea breaks in gigantic waves,
where
the wind wails in the cloisters
of
a ruined monastery.
Rising
and receding I am transported into the Limitless
in
the choirs of strings of burning copper;
to
the majesty and simplicity of Vaughan Williams' sound,
the
glow of the Tallis' spirit.
I
feel the smell of the salty seawind, almost as incense
floating
on high in the light of a setting sun
as
the worship rises higher and higher
on
the waves of pure and eternal wings of music.
|
Notes in hospital after infarctus cordis |
Light
is rested here:
no
movement, sound or time;
just
mere existence in the Light,
still.
*
Let
the Light define your existence;
let
it define the forms of that which is important,
as
well as of which is not.
*
Every
site of disaster is declared
nonaccessible
to the public;
I
am shut off from the mundane hubbub
which
seems to demand attention;
no
intrusion is allowed to the area
which
must be valued totally afresh.
*
Every important point has to be
marked out
with
swift accuracy of pen,
as
when the police arrives at the scene
of
an accident and shuts the site off from the public;
everything
is seen only from the point of
the
Life in danger.
*
Love
surrounds me as Light and joy
as
the whisper of the waves breaking to the seashore;
as
words which reach the mind and the unconscious
as
warm waves.
Continuous
and insistent as the sea
God's
love whispers to my consciousness;
it's
gentle murmur breaks
even
the thickest walls.
*
Thank
You Father for hugging me through pain
so
lovingly; thank You for waking me
to
your Light, to your joy and freedom.
Thank
You Jesus for your pains on Calvary,
where
you embraced us to be your own, forever!
*
Without
a steady foothold in a situation, a moment
light
spills through foliage against the open window;
an
aperture to the unknown, to the future perhaps.
Indecision,
not knowing;
only
seeing the Light, hearing music and the typewriter.
Someone
as a silhouette against the Light,
against
the aperture to the future, perhaps, gesturing
in
indecision, not knowing.
Feeling
dislodged in an aperture as a window or a door.
Through
the foliage the Light;
music
from another world, unreachable,
only
seen through faith, occasionally heard unclear
as
in a dream.
Someone
against the door as a silhouette
not
knowing whether to stay or go
whether
to say yea yea or no no.
To Samuel Becket |
Crawling
crawling in a room in darkness
rotting
walls shut doors shuttered windows
out
sunshine
out
the sun blazes gleams
In
you dark sun hidden
darkness
in you crawling in you crying
Say
wind say wind say
wind
say sun say
sun
say sky say air
(Crawling
in dust in mud darkness on the floor)
Say
light SAY LIGHT say
wind
(Crawling)
Come
out to the light come
to
the wind come walk come
show
your face don't hide show
your
spirit soul body show
them
to the LIGHT