poem-drunk and dancing

[maribou]

A certain DG Jones has this to say about Al Purdy: "Reading Al Purdy to find a single quotation, I find myself at the end of the poem, at the end of another poem, having forgotten my purpose, as if there were no single line shorter than a poem. Purdy's poems, as Gwen MacEwen says, go round and round and where they stop nobody knows." I am beginning to understand the sentiment.

In the Garden

Poinsettias blaze red bougainvilleas burn
the lake is a smooth blue plate
for sun-tongues to lick clean
Once maybe at the very beginning of things
everything was mud-coloured
you could look out and see only grey sand
you could see nothing to send messages
back from it to you
just dirty-coloured seawater
where rain had lashed things in fury
and wind mixed everything up like soft porridge
and only the pole-star shone like a white lever
for gods of the sky to shinny down
on long slender columns of light
and arrive on earth with a cry
Then we had blue and scarlet and silver
then we had vegetable love
whoever was looking for something
dreamed it first of all
then we made a wanting song of sadness
then we made a finding song of joy
when the Moon said "Here I am Sun"
so he was
and went on sailing up there
all night for the first time

It must have been if you were watching
if you could have watched in the morning
a time to stand naked in rain
a time to feel the fingers of warm rain
touching your new human body
and stammer some praise for it
your thanks - and you had to thank someone
why not the earth?
Thank you earth thank you sea thank you sky
the beginnings of human love
when we said:
these things are dear
are bought with your life
they are yours for only an instant
they are yours unconditionally
then you must give them away
---- Al Purdy