Anish and the Moon
There was a stone in the lake
And the moon in my hand
There was a stone in my hand
And the moon in the lake
I threw the stone and it became the moon
as it solidified in the water's space
Its mirror a world of twisting creatures,
all skin and fin; water bodies
I threw the moon and it became a stone
A pitted rough hewn chunk
as real as touch, its presence vacuous
The miracle is not the clear skin of my eyes
but the point at which clouds cross my sight
I see the shapes of my mind sail past
This box of a world, translucent with fact
with lies, with the truth of a lie that makes you think twice
Boxed up world, boxed up world,
Shadow lure.
Elaine Booth
Thu 31st Mar 2011 22:45
Blown away by this poem. Very, very strong writing. It has that wonderful feeling that what you are talking about is somewhow just under the surface of your words, not hidden exactly but not yet fully revealed, making the reader work.