even lying like that,
prone on a rope charpoy,
under the poker faced sky,
that flared above the cursive green of the
slumbering Nilgiri hills,
she thought
he seemed like a hawk,
slipping through the octaves of the sun,
the infinite converging into a secret song
he carried on his blood-stained lips;
at dawn they had followed an uphill trail,
through the frowning jungle,
when they saw the elephant in a clearing,
the canopy striping gold on his magnificent tusks;
they seemed to have a moment,
negotiating in a strange language without syllables,
until the animal waved his trunk in disdain
and disappeared into the trees;
but we’re stardust after all,
she told him,
with wordless memories of our first home,
finding our own little Everest to climb,
so we can be worthy of the journey,
so we will have an answer for the earth
when she presses her ear close
to our untethered hearts;
I have to go,
because it’s there,
because it waits,
because every moment I hear it scream my name;
he turned to watch her face,
as if he lifted a wing and blocked the sun,
circling slowly in the new shadows;
go if you must, he offered,
gather your gear in the folds of your heart
and ascend to your goal,
his smile hovered in the heat,
these hills are wise, you know,
I’ve heard them say,
don’t climb too high,
for you may pluck coloured stars
to weave into your hair,
and walk in the gardens of the moon
where she is neither dark nor bright,
but meanwhile
the cloud on which you built your castle
might float away
silently
beneath your feet;
she could see the sky wrinkle
its azure forehead,
the old hills shrugged and
rolled their eyes,
somewhere a pachyderm chortled,
as the air exhaled,
pulling back its shoulders,
making way for the swoop
of a prescient bird,
homing in on its unsuspecting prey.
“The old hills shrugged and rolled their eyes” – That, my friend, is some fabulous personification!
LikeLike
Thank you 🙂
LikeLike
This is so full of sharp description and metaphor. I especially like:
he seemed like a hawk,
slipping through the octaves of the sun,
the infinite converging into a secret song
he carried on his blood-stained lips;
It was hard to stop there, though, in choosing a favorite.
LikeLike
Thanks so much Victoria
LikeLike
Bird of soaRinG heiGhts..
Bird of balance iN
Beauty’s gRace..
Bird fALLing
riSinG..
Grace
iN bal
ance
middle
NoWways
oF Peace..:)
LikeLike
Thanks for stopping by Katie..
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure.. Friend..:)
LikeLike
A beautiful story and this part struck me most: but we’re stardust after all ~
Thanks for linking up with D’verse ~
LikeLike
Thanks Grace..
LikeLike
I think this is how myths are weaved.. so many brilliant turns in this.. yes the poker faced sky, but also the sense of the elephant in it’s being … love it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Bjorn 🙂
LikeLike
Yes, this does bring me to the jungle. To a place I’ve been, but can’t quite place. I think it’s mainly that elephant. I can see this. The big beast, so welcoming, but alone. Nice… thanks for this memory.
LikeLike
Thank you for stopping by. Appreciate your comment. Spotting a tusker in the wild is quite unforgettable, isn’t it!
LikeLike
What a wonderful mythical tale told with your extraordinary imagery, Thot. A joy to read!
LikeLike
Thank you, glad you liked it.
LikeLike
He reminded you of a hawk…that captured me and reminded me of a lover who reminded me of a black Japanese dragon. the first three lines of this poem captured me and continued to draw me to the close. Wonderful imagery, personification. Great, great poem
LikeLike
Thanks so much! Black Japanese dragon! Hope it brought good memories!
LikeLike
Lots and lots of imagery here. ”
she could see the sky wrinkle
its azure forehead,
the old hills shrugged and
rolled their eyes,
I really dig that. Great story! Thanks
LikeLike
Thank you, glad you liked it 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
The personification of the sky here is amazing. I absolutely adore “poker faced sky.”
LikeLike
Thanks so much 🙂
LikeLike
Thisvus epic. Luv the imagery, the narration, the spurts if dialogue, the wisdom warnings
Much love…
LikeLike
Thanks so much Gillena 🙂
LikeLike
Gorgeous piece! Suddenly the amazing green valley and blue peaks of the Nilgiri rose in front of eyes…Jae. I must break away and run into those hills now. Thanks for the treat!
LikeLike
Thanks for stopping by Panchali… 🙂
LikeLike
This poem is incredible and you are very talented. You caught the soul of the inscrutable hawk. Bravo!
LikeLike
Thanks so much Cindy…glad you liked it. It will always remind me of the hawk at Holler 🙂
LikeLike
This has an underlying meaning for me though I can’t put a finger on it quite yet but loved the outer story between a traveler and a flying companion giving her advice. You are a gifted writer. Good job!
LikeLike
Thanks James…
LikeLike
How much you have put into this glorious poem to delight all your readers. Once in a while I read a piece such as this and say “I wish I had written this as it is so beautiful.”
LikeLike
Thanks Robin, appreciate your comment very much.
LikeLike
a sublime tale of our magnificent obsession, because…
LikeLike
Thanks so much Tio
LikeLike
What an entrancing poem this is that is a joy to read.
LikeLike
Thank you Robin..
LikeLike
a feast of imagery so captivating…
LikeLike
Thanks so much Sumana 🙂
LikeLike
What an absolutely gorgeous tale this is……..your imagery is absolutely wonderful – too many glorious ones to quote, the hills rolling their eyes, he, like a hawk “slipping through the octaves of the sun”, the “gardens of the moon” and the castle slipping away….sigh. A truly beautiful poem. Such a pleasure to read.
LikeLike
Thanks so much Sherry… am so glad you enjoyed it.
LikeLike
“he seemed like a hawk,
slipping through the octaves of the sun,
the infinite converging into a secret song
he carried . . . ”
Wow! With this one, you have touched the stars and more! For me this touches beyond Icarus to Jesus and all that lies below “The Windhover” in the crazy beauty of giving all we have even if it breaks us. Is it foolish? I cannot think so. Though I’ve lived so timidly I need daring and being a force of nature to be possible. Thank you.
LikeLike
Thank you Susan. Appreciate your comment and yes.. even if we’ve never experienced certain things, it does matter that they are possible … even if slightly out of reach.
LikeLike
So much magic realism in this poem – and loved the end quote..it’s very hard to pick a favourite image but i think ‘slipping through the octaves of the sun’ is absolutely divine
LikeLike
Thanks Jae Rose…glad you liked it.
LikeLike
“Finding our own little Everest to climb” — I like the idea that we each have to find a way to be worthy of the journey..and also that the cloud under our feet might float away. The journey definitely can be a perilous one, but also so very rewarding along the way!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much Mary. Appreciate your comment.
LikeLike
but we’re stardust after all,
she told him,
with wordless memories of our first home,
finding our own little Everest to climb,
so we can be worthy of the journey,
Such glorious sentiments!
Beautifully put 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks so much Sanaa 🙂
LikeLike
Brilliant piece! 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you. Unable to leave a comment on your blog without a google ID. Like your line on skinning the ebony soil !!
LikeLike
Brilliant piece!
LikeLike
Thank you 🙂
LikeLike
We’re stardust…I like that.
Thanks for your kind comment. Can there be ups without downs?
LikeLike
What a gripping but brilliant piece. Its got so much layers and depth, and seen and unforeseen emotions weaving a fabric.
LikeLike
Thanks so much…appreciate your comment greatly.
LikeLike