inviting Angela Costi
fragments revised from ‘the village is a garden’ at Mesana
Paphos District, Cyprus
and I have something to tell you
which not even I must hear
– Yiannis Ritsos
1
such an honest morning
sun has washed white
what is that tiny bird swings through
under vines in a courtyard glimpse?
it’s an all-day rooster
proclaims from tin shade
tiny lizards
to whom I’ve had no formal introduction
are faster than
call their colour
a breathless hill’s
good for the heart
I go a little way on
at the edge of the village
come to an oak much older than me
that’s where I’ll seek advice
2
the olive
abundance, peace and glory
what lives in the olive
is just this season
a certain flit of feather, fur
say opportunity
wide boll of gnarl
our ages blur
flutter adjustment
in the branches
what lives in the olive
a thirst set aside
light throws itself at us
the old ones
writhe themselves around
all cleft
and strong with standing
like a dare to wait
and taste the fruit
it’s bitter now
but you can have my patience
let the blade be with the branch
let the shape be minded
sing
and leaf
is song too
a hill lives in the olive gnarl
whole skies have gathered
rain fell
let this bark be shot of sun
twig fall to winter fire of night
the tree so many lives
it’s accident and cause we’re here
a wrestle with itself
frozen yoga seems
because we can’t see time
tree’s made of
bend with the breeze
as often laden
think calmly as the tree
3
a picture of the stillness
a gnarl of stump
could be alive
points its all directions
saw my first snake today
dusty black yay long
add this to the list
of those on the way
flies to me gathered
as movement as sweat
do I deny them hope?
surely I will lie down to die?
a breeze lives in the shade
flutter and the tree takes off
I walk like a ghost through this knowledge
nobody knows I am here
4
rising to all occasions
pigeons explode from an ancient tree
this happens now and then
there are other days
over the skysill
other worlds
deep in the heart