stone drop prayer

stone-drop prayer
                             august 2015

With acknowledgements to lejournaldesarchipels.com for use of this image

was it not
compassion
that we were
put here on the
hearth of a warmth
precious flaw
in the vast set
crystal of all
there is
infinitely
cold?

was it not
compassion that
gave us eyes to
see beyond the
sun into the
dark sea floor
of our own heart
the rich mud there
spawning the

that pearl

that pearl
for Keikei, 2016
see note below regarding the various meanings of her name

Pearl Girl offering the sun pearl to the whale spirit….pic by Keikei

I.
your father a
truly educated man
for he had that
gift of the seer
saw the woman
in the just-born
child named you
after that pearl
that grows just a
little off centre
that grows beyond
perfection
like the bump
of laughter raised
in your cheeks
when smiling
the shadow of the
hollows when the
the heart falters
that frown in your eyes
he called you after
that most original
of pearls not for
decoration but
for life and lives
after, more beauty
than any perfection
more love than
either

II.
looking further
i saw your name
means too an
astrolabe
a globe of strips
of metal stood
apart and through
which you might
track the stars
the plough of ursa
major and even
names one glitter
too among those
stars that skirt
celestial north

yet for all this
navigation from
heaven to ocean
floor, your name
from pearl
to star
i must confess
i’m still
lost in the
pearl

The various meaning of the Chinese character in Keikei’s name (repeated twice) translated from the etymology found on the Chinese Baidu website:

A pearl that is not round
An astronomical meauring instrument (astrolabe)
One of the stars of Ursa Major

1. 不圆的珠子：珠～。
2. 古代测天文的仪器：璇～。
3. 北斗星名之一。

Copyright © 2016 Peter Le Baige. All Rights Reserved

Click on the link above to hear a reading of the poem.  The accompanying music is from the opening of the concerto for piano & orchestra ‘Memo Flora’, Op. 67, by contemporary Japanese composer Yoshimatsu, Takashi [吉松 隆]

in your pocket

in your pocket

the estuary where his self-built yacht was moored

your words always
few and well-used
something deep in
your pocket
you took out
and showed us
putting them back
again in a closed hand
down into that
darkness wearing
thin, the coming
light that one
afternoon
smashed in
your eyes

just when
you have a
measure of what
you’re up against
have learnt to hold
the axe and not
fear it
you find
the one who showed
you how to lift it
weigh the length
of the heft
in the hands
before the swing
jerk it from
the grip of wood
sunk into
is gone like
dust down
a summer road
no drinking
with him
no last word
to open your eyes
to all the distances
of mountain and sea
he’s left in a flurry
of sail out there