Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Last night

We talked of wind, of flower and song,
of gardens and fruits,
territories walked
regions trespassed,
uneven earth, broken continents
places unvisited by cartographer and cartography.
Conversation moved like wind and water,
redefining contour
as landscapes we crafted
with the flawed tools of the heart.
We chiselled away with questions and fear
time and life,
experience and longing.
And in the oceans within,
wave-lengths collapsed
and our lungs
full of words and silence
breathed out a miniature universe
made of you and I,
warm with the immemorial dreams
of conscious insomniacs. 

[from the collection 'The Underside of Silence', shortlisted for the Gratiaen Award 2008]


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