fish

Day Two ~napowrimo ~ Hermes Drift

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

Hermes Drift

a miraculous form wrapped in feathers
closing the eyes of the day
opens his own eyes wide
Athena’s child
flashes through beams of moonlight
his wing curves create an all-knowing smile in the cleft of night
how swift he is in bringing death
to the thoughtless feasting of earth

a confusion of eyes look upward

through milk-merged, mist-soaked, fur-fleeting air
he falls, tearing the skin of the firmament with his sudden cry

the river floats on by
filling the veins and arteries that lead to the vastness of oceans
where Neptune’s hair shelters the young, as yet unformed, children of gentle Salacia’s sighs

the right hand of Zeus slices the wind and the rain
above the sea-salt beds
where two brothers will never be parted
bound as they are by a miracle unsurpassed
essential to every life

silver-backed fish shoal, slip-witted and swift
driven by beautiful Hermes in a trick of the gods
and mercurial wisdom switches this way and that
in an image painted with fishtails
showing us moving atoms unseen by a naked eye

And what is longing, what is hiraeth, what is yearning
but a sense of old displacements
from banks of shifting sand?
It’s the magnetic current
spawned in our deepest wishes
that persistently calls us home on elusive tides.

© A.Chakir 2023

Before the Fall

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

Out of silence,
out of song
rise the mountains and the seas.
Out of mud,
out of slime,
ignited by a spark divine,
crawls the worm,
swims the fish.
The birds their muddied feathers clean.
Out of thought,
out of dreams,
springs the seed, the bud, the egg.
Beneath the trees the Lovers slept
awaiting the eternal beat,
while up above, in balance kept,
the stars formed patterns in the sky,
the sun and moon held pace with time.
Now sounds the drum
of wood and skin
to summon up the tribal kin
to join their hands
and stretch their limbs
in complex, crafted, leaping steps.
The dance of life and death begins.
Warmed by winds and gentle rains,
the harvest fruit is gathered in
with care and deep respect.
Spring, summer, winters cold,
all was pure and full of light,
before the weary world grew old,
before the garden, in neglect,
began it’s dreadful Fall

 

 

Through the Nets

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

if dreams were liquid we’d all be oceans
notions of fish would swim in our depths

the tides are tirelessly churning the sand
the weeds below sway in the flow
in time the ocean will swallow the land

our silvered skins flicker and shine
I feel your slick side stroke against mine
circling back I seek you again
we swim through life escaping the nets

 

 

The Food of Love

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

i set the table squarely
on four firm legs for strength
covered with a sky blue cloth
a cloth of embroidered dreams
i place a plate of wholesome rice
the grain that will sustain you
and fish for all the secret of the unknown deep
a side salad of green leaves for growth
and olives for endless peace
all dresses in lifes rich herbs

in the centre stands a vase
a red rose for passion, a white for purity
a sprig of honesty, lovingly preserved
and the dark leaves of rosemary
for times remembrance

above the table, light shines
the light of open grace
a light to fill your days
and shine upon your face

you will bring the wine
it sparkles and shines in your eyes