3369. WAITING FOR THE LIGHT (To Hit the Water)

WAITING FOR THE LIGHT

(To Hit the Water)

I am waiting for the light to hit

the water  -  all those torrid ripples

riding on the surface. This is the

'moment' I await, though it is ruined

by the noise and the presence of others.

Be ruined? Why should it not : prattle is

prattle, and what is not (what we've got)?

-

I notice the little oar bobbing; how it

looks like an arm or a leg on the water  -

who has lost what must first be determined,

and - do we not - anyway all lose ourselves,

apart, piece by piece? Thus is time, and thus

is Life determined.

-

I think of you, in memory, though not

that often : things bleed and merge, meld

and mix  -  the sleeping, tired face, the

joy of lips and trace, the hand upon your

breast, I place  -  and all that crazy pleasure

which it brings. As the Roman God Priapus

asserted : 'Grant me a flowering youth! To

please with my naughty prick, that I may

chase away the worries that harm the soul

and that I may not fear too much the growing

old!' Anyway, why a God would say that,

I'll never know. And I am waiting for

the light to hit the water.