AS ALL CAMP IN THE HEART OF MYSTERY

Friday, November 18, 2005
For C.L. and J.H., on their wedding day


Alone with a first spider in the house,
Hills turning green, you'd really like to flee.
(Globe of carnations, chains of marigolds.)
—To city's edge, and cypress by the sea,
Down where the air is new, sky almost new,
High clouds from the southwest, Mexican kids
Playing, the right ideas humming along
An old trajectory, which few have sung,
And fewer still have praised. The old, old world
Where you and he walk once, almost a dance,
His gesture artful, tender, when you turn
Away, and turn back, wearing a coat of black
Satin, with long tails, over a white silk dress,
Really a shift. White stockings. (Violin
Singing its mournful brilliance, music run
Backwards, the way you might recall a day
You marry. That we might not be alone.)

Now light and color swell the open air,
Day after rain, last yellowed walnut leaves
Filter late sunlight:
En mi soledad
He visto cosas muy claras
(Yes.)
Que no son verdad.

Laurel and madrone
And oak woods just below your mother's house.
Leaf litter. Resurrection of the dead

Has been postponed, and the "millennium"
No-showed. Let wild hope carry us through spring,
While dark-eyed juncos forage in the rain...

Walk hand in hand. Take your time walking home.
Care for each other. Hermit thrushes sing
As though in praise of God. —God may appear

This spring, or never. By late March, right here

Watery cloud light spills a finite sky,—
As wild plum blossoms falling, blow away.

14 comments:

Buddy Larsen said...

Thanks for that lifting, Jamie. It's a rare smile, the one you get watching two people lost in each other, or the one you get reading a poem about them. Seasons change, memories blow away, but everywhere in time and space, that smile is always the same.

Jamie Irons said...

Thanks, Buddy.

If anyone objects to my putting a poem up on our blog, I'm going to claim "Buddy made me do it!"

;-)

Jamie

Jamie Irons said...

BTW, the Spanish is lifted from Antonio Machado, and the title adapted from (who else!) Dominique de Villepin!

Jmaie Irons

Knucklehead said...

Alone with the first spider in the house... really'd like to flee? This poor sap is in for a long marriage. Just wait till she doesn't allow you to kill them anymore, friend. Then you'll be trying to grab the little suckers without hurting them so you can safely put them outside.

And don't even think about the first mouse in the house. That'll be a real test. You better hope no raccoon ever peels back a piece of siding and climbs aboard.

Rick Ballard said...

Jamie,

I think Friday would be a great poetry day. Something as lovely as this piece makes a great start for every weekend. Thanks for the lift.

Jamie Irons said...

Knuck,

LOL

I think this couple will be OK, home-invaders-from-the-natural-world-wise: they're setting up in downtown San Francisco.

;-)

But who knows what other vermin may arrive in that environment!

(The first line was actually about her mother's place, where the wedding took place; it's near me in Napa Valley.)

Rick,

Thanks!

Jamie

Buddy Larsen said...

Hey, I LOVE spiders--they chase off the scorpions. Pull on a boot with a scorpion in it, and you'll be inviting spiders to move in. and even if you don't find any, the little bobbing and weaving motions of spider language are great exersize and really tone those abs.

Buddy Larsen said...

try not to talk to any outside, tho, where anybody from the county might see you. hoo-boy. i could tell some stories.

Skookumchuk said...

Mmm, poetry, a wedding, Napa, Vino tinto, laurel and madrone.

I sense . . . I sense - a road trip down from my soggy Northwest.

Knucklehead said...

Skook! You are safe and well and wet again (still?). Good to hear from you.

Skookumchuk said...

knucklehead:

Thanks. Yup, I spent this week just sleeping late, staring at the walls and goofing off. Good to be back.

Rick Ballard said...

skook,

There's that little matter of the invitation lying in your email. No rest for the wicked nor for the good and all that.

Skookumchuk said...

Yeah. I do still have a weekend of wall-staring left and by then, Hell, it might as well be Thanksgiving.

The trigger finger is getting itchy, though.

Rick Ballard said...

Did you draw tags for a Left.. um elk? Lucky dog.