Saturday, September 10, 2005

without listening, hear what i say

Reading Sarah's poems this morning, I was reminded, for some reason, of a poem by Octavio Paz, a line of which floats into my head at the most random of moments, stays for some time, then disappears like the rain itself until a time when it comes again. Today is one of those times.

As One Listens to the Rain - Octavio Paz

Listen to me as one listens to the rain,
not attentive, not distracted,
light footsteps, thin drizzle,
water that is air, air that is time,
the day is still leaving,
the night has yet to arrive,
figurations of mist
at the turn of the corner,
figurations of time
at the bend in this pause,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
without listening, hear what I say
with eyes open inward, asleep
with all five senses awake,
it's raining, light footsteps, a murmur of syllables,
air and water, words with no weight:
what we are and are,
the days and years, this moment,
weightless time and heavy sorrow,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
wet asphalt is shining,
steam rises and walks away,
night unfolds and looks at me,
you are you and your body of steam,
you and your face of night,
you and your hair, unhurried lightning,
you cross the street and enter my forehead,
footsteps of water across my eyes,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
the asphalt's shining, you cross the street,
it is the mist, wandering in the night,
it is the night, asleep in your bed,
it is the surge of waves in your breath,
your fingers of water dampen my forehead,
your fingers of flame burn my eyes,
your fingers of air open eyelids of time,
a spring of visions and resurrections,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
the years go by, the moments return,
do you hear the footsteps in the next room?
not here, not there: you hear them
in another time that is now,
listen to the footsteps of time,
inventor of places with no weight, nowhere,
listen to the rain running over the terrace,
the night is now more night in the grove,
lightning has nestled among the leaves,
a restless garden adrift-go in,
your shadow covers this page.

8 Comments:

Blogger The Sandmonkey said...

I hate blogger. I left u a brilliant really long comment on your previous post and it went crazy and ate it and didn't post it. Serves me right. I had already said that I wasn't going to talk about this. Grrrrrrrrrrr

12:31 PM  
Blogger The Sandmonkey said...

Ohh, of course, that comment goes in. Just not the otehr one. I HATE BLOGGER.

12:32 PM  
Blogger pamela said...

Blogger is the worst. Absolutely. Recreate your post! I want your input. :)

12:48 PM  
Blogger egyptiansally said...

happy belated birthday (10th right?); hope this year is everything you've looked forward to.

much love,
s.

11:55 AM  
Blogger pamela said...

Actually, it's the 12th. But thanks! All I can say is I'm glad this year is ending. Here's hoping the next one is better. Miss you.

xo

2:37 PM  
Blogger egyptiansally said...

i knew it was a day away from the 11th. well, i hope you celebrate in style today. and of course post any birthday pictures :)

7:25 AM  
Blogger The Sandmonkey said...

Happy Birthday Pamela!

8:47 AM  
Blogger pamela said...

Thanks!!!

9:37 AM  

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