Winners 2002 : Second Prize

Dhruv Sookhoo

Falling From, Rising To...

Calling to the spirit-scape
To break the tyranny of this frail land,
To a sky tinged with deeper indigo,
Long-awaited, long-anticipated storm-break;

Flood-murmur, thunder
 An echo; a sunken meaning
  The original Greening

Scant precipitation drives to stottin’ rain,
Coursing down the jagged sandstone,
Widening the river; releasing long-stored water through the rocks,
Dampening, dabbling cobbles once dusted and pale.

Light shimmers on the surface, scatter,
Only to dive back to the bottom
Returning to cling-just to the
Sound of slipping sliver, illusion of matter.

The soak undressing the earth of its umber,
Stripping back copper-tarnish from the land
Giving all the façade of fragility
Weeping it down, down into the sea, pushing on further

Near whisper, vaster
 A flash; the old consciousness
  Humanity under the one caress

Sensation of lashing rain on the skin,
An Egyptian resurrection, fecundity-flowing,
Transforming what was arid to a glistening veil
Miracle-bound, a sacred skin of silk from within

Water held back by a buckling board
Cundy stoppered; a child-made flood
Satisfaction, joy seeps across the fields
Duck’s din, a clamorous chord reaches across the dusking broad

Framed by hawthorn, a skim, a reflection,
Of the leaden sky flowing to the boundaries
Fields are filling; married to the burn,
The land and ether now bare the same complexion.

Silt held in solution, any impurities hidden,
World viewed through a thick liquid-lens,
Birch; a gift wrapped in a fluid-ribbon,
Drown deep in hope; legacy to future humanity given…

 Take my hand, I have many guises; I’ve travelled to many places,
Take my hand, it’s a reflection of yours; closing and opening doors,
 I am life, I am death, carried in the moisture of your first and last breath
I can be turquoise-treachery in five letters, anima. I am the emancipating river
 No sodden pages can testify to my illustrious rages. No tears, please.
I’ll pour away the last of your watery-winter sun, ice-bound till my spring’s begun
 I am the ravenous sea, the teeming rain, I will be what I’ll be,
I am the tranquil pool, I am a jewel within a jewel within a jewel.

…The City Riveted in Reeds

 

stottin’: bouncing on impact       cundy: a field drain or sewer