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1. |
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in another world
in the rain, in another world,
stand and watch the mating
of light reflected in pooling water,
and water, drop by drop,
falling into water.
in another world,
this would be foolish;
in another world
you could be dry
and warm and naked
under the warming sun.
in another world,
you could be standing under the rain,
under a roof of thatch or tin,
and hearing the hiss or clatter
of the warm rain on the roof.
in another world,
this would be a dream,
a night fantasy, not something
to tell your grandchildren, to wake
in another world, to wake with
tears on your face in the bright
morning and shake your head
and try to hide from suddenly prying eyes.
in another world,
you would be unable to explain
your sudden sadness.
you would have no excuse
for the beauty of light
reflected in a pool in the rain.
you would be unable
to articulate even your
easiest griefs. regret would
be a ghost growing silent,
unquestioned, mute. a silent
cry. the rain would
answer, gently. in
another world, you would be
naked to the air,
raw to the burn of the sky;
the wind would scatter
your hair, blinding you
in the reflection of your own
pure body, white or black or
some purer shade.
in another world,
you could be a part of the rain,
not only a mute spectator
to its message; now,
it sings at you, hisses to you,
glows at you, through the sky
and the black sky so bright,
dark dark so dark; now,
the rain is a caress,
a completion, the many-handed
lotus-touch on your whole skin at once;
now the rain is here,
and here, is always here,
now, always present in you,
however bright or dark you are.
in another world,
the rain has no potency.
now a ghost's tears, now
your own. in another world,
now, then, you echo
as you watch,
ending with the streams
of rainwater in the ground,
ending as a river
seeking the lowest ground,
seeking finally an ocean, a sea,
a sunrise, an orrery of stones.
in another world, now,
you would be a river, you would
be the rain, now, in another world.
Poem © 1984, 2021 Arthur Durkee. All Rights Reserved.
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2. |
Worlds: Mantra
06:07
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3. |
Worlds: Chant
03:39
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4. |
Worlds: Hamatsa
03:54
|
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5. |
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6. |
||||
|
in another world
in the rain, in another world,
stand and watch the mating
of light reflected in pooling water,
and water, drop by drop,
falling into water.
in another world,
this would be foolish;
in another world
you could be dry
and warm and naked
under the warming sun.
in another world,
you could be standing under the rain,
under a roof of thatch or tin,
and hearing the hiss or clatter
of the warm rain on the roof.
in another world,
this would be a dream,
a night fantasy, not something
to tell your grandchildren, to wake
in another world, to wake with
tears on your face in the bright
morning and shake your head
and try to hide from suddenly prying eyes.
in another world,
you would be unable to explain
your sudden sadness.
you would have no excuse
for the beauty of light
reflected in a pool in the rain.
you would be unable
to articulate even your
easiest griefs. regret would
be a ghost growing silent,
unquestioned, mute. a silent
cry. the rain would
answer, gently. in
another world, you would be
naked to the air,
raw to the burn of the sky;
the wind would scatter
your hair, blinding you
in the reflection of your own
pure body, white or black or
some purer shade.
in another world,
you could be a part of the rain,
not only a mute spectator
to its message; now,
it sings at you, hisses to you,
glows at you, through the sky
and the black sky so bright,
dark dark so dark; now,
the rain is a caress,
a completion, the many-handed
lotus-touch on your whole skin at once;
now the rain is here,
and here, is always here,
now, always present in you,
however bright or dark you are.
in another world,
the rain has no potency.
now a ghost's tears, now
your own. in another world,
now, then, you echo
as you watch,
ending with the streams
of rainwater in the ground,
ending as a river
seeking the lowest ground,
seeking finally an ocean, a sea,
a sunrise, an orrery of stones.
in another world, now,
you would be a river, you would
be the rain, now, in another world.
Poem © 1984, 2021 Arthur Durkee. All Rights Reserved.
|
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7. |
a stone flute
29:59
|
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8. |
||||
|
in another world
in the rain, in another world,
stand and watch the mating
of light reflected in pooling water,
and water, drop by drop,
falling into water.
in another world,
this would be foolish;
in another world
you could be dry
and warm and naked
under the warming sun.
in another world,
you could be standing under the rain,
under a roof of thatch or tin,
and hearing the hiss or clatter
of the warm rain on the roof.
in another world,
this would be a dream,
a night fantasy, not something
to tell your grandchildren, to wake
in another world, to wake with
tears on your face in the bright
morning and shake your head
and try to hide from suddenly prying eyes.
in another world,
you would be unable to explain
your sudden sadness.
you would have no excuse
for the beauty of light
reflected in a pool in the rain.
you would be unable
to articulate even your
easiest griefs. regret would
be a ghost growing silent,
unquestioned, mute. a silent
cry. the rain would
answer, gently. in
another world, you would be
naked to the air,
raw to the burn of the sky;
the wind would scatter
your hair, blinding you
in the reflection of your own
pure body, white or black or
some purer shade.
in another world,
you could be a part of the rain,
not only a mute spectator
to its message; now,
it sings at you, hisses to you,
glows at you, through the sky
and the black sky so bright,
dark dark so dark; now,
the rain is a caress,
a completion, the many-handed
lotus-touch on your whole skin at once;
now the rain is here,
and here, is always here,
now, always present in you,
however bright or dark you are.
in another world,
the rain has no potency.
now a ghost's tears, now
your own. in another world,
now, then, you echo
as you watch,
ending with the streams
of rainwater in the ground,
ending as a river
seeking the lowest ground,
seeking finally an ocean, a sea,
a sunrise, an orrery of stones.
in another world, now,
you would be a river, you would
be the rain, now, in another world.
Poem © 1984, 2021 Arthur Durkee. All Rights Reserved.
|
||||
Arthur Durkee Ann Arbor, Michigan
Arthur Durkee is a composer & songwriter who records & performs on Chapman Stick, bass, analog modular synths, bamboo & wood flutes, keys, frame drums, and voice. He has won awards for composed, notated music as well as for his recordings, & is a published poet, & designer & illustrator. ... more
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