Rebirths

I     An Honour’d Brother

Warrior tomb

All artwork by Enrique Cropper

Light. Dark. Tone. Warmth.
Whence

Birth Mother bore
Air Life breath’d
Breast Milk fed
Blood Kin rear’d

Strong back labour’d
Wood Home built
Fair Wife betroth’d
Offspring begat

Grey Beard begrew
Brother’d Honour earn’d
Life Force dull’d
Death Father call’d

Thither
Warmth. Tone. Dark. Light.

II     A Thoughtful Daughter

Maiden alone

Thence wingèd angels bringèd soft, a maid on Saint Juan’s Day
To parents, good and just, who taught the little child to pray
To God on high, and to her faithful kin she was to serve
So grew Adela fair and strong, and gave herself to Love.

The child wax’d wise, and turned herself, both to the mind and hand
She learn’d soon how to contemplate, and how to tend the land
But when the time to wed arrived, the damsel’s parents knew
That suitors for their thoughtful daughter could be only few.

As many seasons passed, Adela on her own remain’d
To  flourish in a world of wholesome feelings unexplained
A life free of the thrill of carnal love began to loom
And piety, instead, went with Adela to her tomb.

III    Déjà vu, Déjà connu, Déjà vecu

Déjà et après

Have you ever had one of those moments
They call
Déjà vu?
Being somewhere quite new
Sensing pre-acquaintance
With the lie of the land
Or the form of the fields?
With the very ambiance of the place?
With the city’s design
Or the course of its streets?
Have you ever felt an inner
Halt
A conviction that won’t dissipate
[No matter how you try]
“I know this place”.
“I’ve been here many times before”.

Have you ever had one of those moments
They call
Déjà connu?
Meeting someone quite new
Feeling familiar
With the way they’re speaking
Or what they will say next?
With some je ne sais quoi about them?
With the tone of their voice
Or the look in their eye?
Have you ever felt an inner
Pull
An attraction drawing you closer
[For better and for worse]
“I know this person”.
“We’ve met many times before.”

Have you ever had one of those moments
They call
Déjà vécu?
Doing something quite new
With inward awareness
Of corp’ral impressions
And gesture in each act?
Feeling a savoir faire, as if regained?
Minding the joy and pain
Inherent in activity?
Have you ever felt an inner
Trust
[Deep down in your bones]
“I know this life.”
“I’ve lived it many times before”.
“I will be born again, as Someone Else”.

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About writingbrussels

Seven Writers. Three Languages. One City.
This entry was posted in Mark, Observing Brussels, Rebirth and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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