~¤~



With a caress

I strike off

the final chord

in the summer's

chaconne

 

A heavy tripletime

embedded in

a note lingering

behind shut eyes

 

Everything of weight

is three

The divine

totality

The undivided

cultivable

 

The sowing

The plant

and the holy Harvest

Arable land as a woman

Untouched

          fertile

Chaste

          kissed

 

Nowhere

there is a greater seriousness

than that of the sower

         the conductor

         the caressor

 

The field's furrows

         sine curves

         in the soil's score

Steady

          Up and then

          down and then

          up and then down again

 

gathered in a bordun

that arise

against the imagined

sorrow

 

And finally

         caressing

Final strike

Comprehend the music

in the silent wait




(Jan Simonsson 20/12/09)

LPWJ eng version 03/02/10