A few wild handfuls of rock
flung out from the harbour,
they have rooted these feet
in waters treacherous with flux
and history.
In cross-currents
of the warm Pacific, fishermen
fought with coils of heaving net,
the hammering rain, the high
surging wave, on board trawlers
whose barnacled hulks have sunk
like days below the world’s
wet rim.
Now,
under fine herring-bone cloud
the sky’s wide lapels flap open,
illumine the river, pressed blue
and point this crooked basalt
finger to wind-wrung journeys -
history scaled and gutted and cast
upon the currents, racing back to
lost beginnings.
Netting the Memories
Filed under poetry
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xar4pu_zanzibar-du-rythme-a-lyame_music
Thanks so much for that link screamish… such beauty, such beauty.
A shame I cant give you more of this. hope it comes to a festival in Oz soon…it’s an amazing film…and amazing music that deserves a wider audience
I will keep my eye out for it screamish.
“the sky’s wide lapels flap open”
This is the most beautiful image I’ve come across in a fair while.
Thanks Maxine.. I hope the sky is open wide wherever you are today!