Mammy Water

 

 She arrives, sign of rain clouds gathering.

Her bossom of spilling clouds sings to him

Of full moon’s eagle’s wings,

Of waters of seven halved horns;

Of chimera’s giant beneficient shore;

Sings to him of a whim’s leap

Into lightning howling

As earthwind flows into seawind.

Everywhere is the earthwind of longing

No new wind is called the wind is one (Whirl/wind)

One succour of sails and mute drums

Everywhere is the earth-wind of longing

And she would say no word of her gift of harps,

She would whisper no by-word in the vast silence

Neither wind, nor water, nor man knows her harp:

Her harp is grandmother her harp is her fables.

 

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SENTINEL POETRY #29, Online Magazine Monthly,  April 2005, ISSN 1479-425X