to reshuffle thoughts
a short journey is enough
leaving – returning …
legends undulate
in glowing brittle wood – sighs
from swaying branches –
Jasmin on the breeze
laments of grief in the rain –
ancestors speak
first sounds glide on ice
circling the affirmative
leisurely routine
between dusk and dawn
all words sink to un-squared time
rounding in fish eyes
as poems probing
the deep meshes of oceans
for heart connections …
‘What else, when chaos draws all forces inward to shape a single leaf …’ C. Aiken
Visiting my early landscapes, friends in Munich, my father of 97, with my son, whose work in London means I rarely see him, was a rich experience. I had to capture the essence in a poem, which started out in German:
In der Dämmerung glänzt Gold aus der Wurtzel
Gedanken gleiten auf Eis in Kreisen herum
doch manche sinken in die Tiefe um
im Wassergewebe nach Erinnerungen
zu fischen … Gesichter ziehen vorbei
in sanften kalten und warmen Wogen …
I’ll work on this, inspired by a writer Herta Müller – (English translation on screen) introduced to me by friends whose guest I was in Munich. Anyone fascinated by language will be moved. Also this article in The Paris Review I am presently reading ‘Mein Vaterland war ein Apfelkern,’ a remarkable dialogue.
In Munich’s ‘Haus der Kunst’ I visited a wonderful exhibition of Louise Bourgeois (1911 – 2010) an artist I much admire, whose installations about the Cells of Structures of Existence are deeply impressive.
Londoners my have seen her huge spider on display in the Turbine Hall of Tate Modern. I wish I had cheated and made photos of her beautifully arranged installations in the generous spaces in Haus Der Kunst.
To compensate, here is the wonderful golden bar at the ‘House der Kunst.’ And returning home – a blue invasion.