remembered, if not understood

I am not always sure what I make of Adrienne Rich’s poetry, but if she gave me nothing else but the phrase ‘the dream of a common language’ it would have been enough.  May she rest in peace.

If from time to time I envy
the pure annunciations to the eye

the visio beatifica
if from time to time I long to turn

like the Eleusinian hierophant
holding up a simple ear of grain

for return to the concrete and everlasting world
what in fact I keep choosing

are these words, these whispers, conversations
from which time after time the truth breaks moist and green.

from “Cartographies of Silence”
The Dream of a Common Language

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