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12 poems
THE DEED
The shore has risen up. Steaming water
breathes persistently.
The evening swelter settles all around
like a shadow from your body.
Hold yourself steady and look at yourself,
fear nothing and no-one;
not the touch of the naked sky
or the sting of stone.
Set down totality, the expressivity of expression,
the daring of gesture—
this is your possibility and your ephemerality,
your path of protest.
And He who stands over you with a sword,
he, who is with you,
may he be merciful in the moment of the battle
between you and Pain.