Uncommon Banyan II: The Tender’s Call
An acceptance speech in verse upon appointment as inaugural Commonwealth Poet Laureate Delivered at Commonwealth Foundation, Marlborough House, June 12,…
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Close your eyes I see a woman unwrapping a papered past
an open window the growing garden a hawk looping the
heavy air how come your bones so filled with lightness
hold you up like a scaffold?
Do not make sound roar like the ocean does at the insolence
of land grasp the hems of your mother’s skirt dry your eyes
in me how the salt looks a tributary an ancient route back
to your fertile home?
Build a barrow with your hands drape the mound with your hair
make a room in this house make room in this house
besides the bones of this ivory city how can you know
your people without love?
Close your eyes but do not close the body against the air
of the day it’s heavy acetylene wind the window frames the world
Eden shrinks itself into a disk and Eve rises anew
casting down the fiery sword.
Illustration ©NR Visram
