In the boat of night
my boy and I float.
There are no oars.
We use our voices
to move through
the waves. But
the currents take
us wherever the currents
take us. It is dark.
We hold each other
as if there is no one
else in the world.
For this moment,
there is no one else
in the world. There is
his voice. My voice.
His ears. My ears.
Our warmth. And
the cold all around.
aye, days of tacking through the cold darkness. i send beams of sunlight unto the each/both of you. may bright blessing arrive with the incoming dawn. crossed fingers, folded hands.
And this WS Merwin poem, entitled, “Thanks”:
Listen
with the night falling
we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water thanking it
standing by the windows looking out
in our directions
back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks we are saying thank you
in the faces of the officials and the rich
and of all who will never change
we go on saying thank you thank you
with the animals dying around us
taking our feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
thank you we are saying and waving
dark though it is
Oh I do love this Merwin poem, though I have taught it several times and to my initial surprise the classes have been very divided about it and how to receive it. I LOVE it when a poem hits very strongly many ways … r
-10 below this morning at my house and this poem thawed me completely. “The boat of night” as the launching point is such a perfect metaphor, and then the poem simply isolates the two of you as it simultaneously brings you together. Such closeness and warmth after the imagined tumult of that title.
[…] After Several Very Hard Days by Rosemerry Trommer #poem […]