from Notes on My Father<\/i><\/p>\n
The old man moved into his night<\/p>\n
a boat all lights on the evening harbor.<\/p>\n
The island was in small spring,<\/p>\n
The sun came out suddenly<\/p>\n
struck the tiles<\/p>\n
and disappeared again.<\/p>\n
What could the old man know now of spring?<\/p>\n
He spelled it out like a child the ABCs<\/p>\n
comprehending the flower slowly.<\/p>\n
Already something like soil<\/p>\n
he had become only surface.<\/p>\n
This mortal moved into<\/p>\n
the crack in coal<\/p>\n
the old sack<\/p>\n
loaded with the four seasons<\/p>\n
the four ages<\/p>\n
with deep aging.<\/p>\n
Brown spotted hands<\/p>\n
and desperate blue veins.<\/p>\n
The dawn of his birth<\/p>\n
the village was in snow<\/p>\n
the melon patch purple with cold.<\/p>\n
His father came from the woods<\/p>\n
with a dead boar<\/p>\n
slung over his shoulder;<\/p>\n
he dropped it in front of the fireplace.<\/p>\n
Snow and game<\/p>\n
small magic signs<\/p>\n
around a wintry belly<\/p>\n
Silence . . .<\/p>\n
someone is swaying in the garden<\/p>\n
someone is fondling the soil<\/p>\n
the white soil of night.<\/p>\n
I’m waiting for the moon to grow<\/p>\n
for all to ease in me<\/p>\n
to remember<\/p>\n
to remember all miracles<\/p>\n
the unmet<\/p>\n
most of all.<\/p>\n
I want to be in what’s being born<\/p>\n
and in what’s ending,<\/p>\n
I cast spells on my departing father<\/p>\n
spells of love.<\/p>\n
At the end of night<\/p>\n
at the end of the gully<\/p>\n
at the setting of the moon<\/p>\n
it was me leaving in love<\/p>\n
spellbound<\/p>\n
exempt in death<\/p>\n
all my forces unmouldered<\/p>\n
for eternity.<\/p>\n
In a green pasture<\/p>\n
in a shady pasture<\/p>\n
in a barbarous pasture of oleanders<\/p>\n
from under comes all this vegetation<\/p>\n
I praise<\/p>\n
from under begins<\/p>\n
the ascent of fate.<\/p>\n
~Katerina Anghelaki-Rooke<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
from Notes on My Father The old man moved into his night a boat all lights on the evening harbor. The island was in small spring, The sun came out suddenly struck the tiles and disappeared again. What could the old man know now of spring? He spelled it out like a child the ABCs […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[375],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2952","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poem-for-hela"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2952"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2952"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2952\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2953,"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2952\/revisions\/2953"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2952"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2952"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tarotpathways.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2952"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}