Poignant Moment, listening to “Lakes” played by
the Pat Metheny Group. Sunset Beach, Summer,
1984
The song comes over me like a wheatfield. my face
…… brushed by golden stalks
My spirit moves forth like a blind one and when
……things touch me…I see them
How could I know there was so much tenderness
……hidden in things, in my flesh?
How could I know the love of white paint for
……the porch of the house where it clings
……and flakes? How could I know my daughter
……would come back?
How could I know about the air of the inquiring,
……efficient blood, returning to its cells?
I see the love of the pale blue wind for our clothes,
……blown out from the line,
The wind loves our house, whistling through tiny
……cracks, blowing steadily toward us.
There is something in me that listens and stirs.
……Everything flows, grasping. Everything is
……a kind of attachment, a music; time aching
……through us.
It is too much to feel. I put down my pad. Even
……breathing is a kind of ceaseless music.
I see we cannot rest, ever. We seek for love.
……continually, carried along like dust, swept
……across lakes. How did I ever come to be
……here, to know these people, to love them?
Our need for love exceeds us, reaching ahead,
……dark hair blowing like a torch in the halls
……of the old castle. It goes ahead, looking
……for signs, listening, searching.
And then the wind catches it suddenly and lifts it,
……swift and beautiful, carries it far out over
……the lakes—sail without a boat, banner,
……of our incorrigible longings.
by Lou Lipsitz
from Seeking the Hook
Signal Books, 1997