The voice was still and small,
Mine and yet from the expanse of horizon around me,
While the wind fluttered around the corners of the house
Like an indecisive flock of crows.
I had come to Greece
With its army of olive trees lined across rough soil;
The endless light;
Electric whir of crickets;
Cafes dotted with rows of smoke-stained moustaches;
Women bow-legged from years of heavy carrying
And the dark-domed ancient churches,
Where God’s mouth belches foreign noises from the ceiling,
In order to learn this:
My thoughts are too priestly;
They cloak and over-expose the truth
All at the same time.
They are heavy with some ancient root,
Shouting militant instructions from a hungry belly.
They burden the world…
And yet, all of a sudden,
Like a flock of roosting geese,
Bringing sun on their wings,
Soft, clear and full of direction,
‘Let me unburden you of yourself.’
I am standing on the balcony,
Overwhelmed by the circle of nature,
And through all the tunnels of experience
I am lifted by the light;
The dome of sky that holds everything in its gaze
Now included me.
Looking down from some great heart,
All is nested into the belly of this land,
Unburdened from everything but itself,
The dance of swallows rising from the cheering crowd of trees.