'The Table'

from the Turkish of Edip Cansever (poet)




A man filled with the gladness of living put his keys on the table, Put flowers in a copper bowl there. He put his eggs and milk on the table.


He put there the light that came in through the window, sound of a bicycle, sound of a spinning wheel. The softness of bread and weather he put there.


On the table the man put things that happened in his mind. What he wanted to do in life, he put that there. Those he loved, those he didn't love, he put them on the table too.


Three times three makes nine; he put nine on the table. He was next to the window, next to the sky; he reached out and placed on the table endlessness.


So many days he had wanted to drink a beer. He put on the table the pouring of that beer.


He placed there his sleep and his wakefulness; his hunger and his fullness he placed there. Now that's what I call a table! It didn't complain at all about the load. It wobbled once or twice, and then stood firm. The man kept piling things on.

A new place yet again...

It seems that I come alive in Autumn when the wind is deliciously and devilishly cold and teasing. The air smells fresh and clean and the rust brown and gold leaves strewn everywhere a reminder that Winter is imminent. This has been a year of loss and growth and new beginnings. It may be that we stay still for a long, long time now and grow roots and become tame. I have to revive this space for words can hold us together when everything else falls away and all that stands between this world and the other are the bare trees of snow and ice.

Viola at Margate

It comes over you in sudden waves
Like crepuscular sea-tides at Margate,
Ever creeping, silent and moonlit.
You emerge like Viola out of a shipwreck
Onto a desolate sandy beach
And wonder where it is that you were headed?

Water like words brook no resistance -
The shore at midnight is a treasure chest of gleaming debris,
The gullies of streaming water
Form bridges between word islands,
Ever eager, expectant and muse-struck
This emotion must not be stilled by critical dams.

Viola became her twin to face the world
I too take refuge in my mask and play the fool.

Waiting / Gift

I Waiting

The radio announced that a tsunami was brewing off the coast of India,
A fisherman's wife waited by the hearth thinking of her Ulysses out at sea.
As sirens tore through the night’s veil, it caused the fire to flicker and die.

II Gift

A stray cloud flew past my window this morning
Soaked in the warm rain of home
Carrying the smells of my mother’s kitchen.

'Little house on the Prairie'

I am sat at our upstairs window, at the new workspace, ready to accomplish great things! The neighbour's dog barks at the metal fence in which he is caged and behind me I hear the sounds of my cat getting her midday snack. There is a tall walnut tree in the backyard where the grey squirrels hide and play and the grass in the back garden needs mowing but that is for another day! The sun is coming around to the back of the house and soon it will stream in through the narrow window warming up the room.

Yes, it has been a period of transition for us all. Life is slowly settling down in this small Midwestern locale and as I arrange things in this wee house it is gradually turning into a home for us. Vaike is happy here as she chases odd bits of fluff, pounces on some unsuspecting insect and runs around with her favourite rubberband all around the house and down to the basement.

The wind has picked up outside and I remember that I have to get ready for an afternoon meeting but its nice to sit here awhile and take it all in . Moving continents was stressful and we seem to have been in motion ever since. Where is the time to sit still? I can hear the chorus of the swishing leaves outside but there is no noise of traffic like in our old flat in the city. The trees are changing colour and soon Autumn will reveal herself in all her glory.

Soon my birthday will arrive and I will be a year older... India and Europe seem far away. I miss the sea, luminous and radioactive though it might have been. The meandering river that runs past our house makes up for it and the bluffs(cliffs) that overhang the river valley lend a raw edge to this rather flat prairie land. The cornfields stretch for miles and deer seem to pop out of nowhere when they emerge dangerously onto the road. Canoeing on the river is exciting and a good way to spend an afternoon. The roads in town are familiar now and the landmarks seem friendly like the church spires of Tallinn. We are still in transition - no roots have been laid, yet some ties have been established.

'Let's go then, you and I' said Eliot and as we take our first steps on this road and move towards new adventures wish me luck....