Treading The Choreography Of The Water
Underneath the cessation of the strident choreography
Of the waters that we treaded - now flat and asleep -
We harked the last note of the sparrow's garrulous song
And the initiation of the soughing of the swarthy leaves
That resembled the stropping of the daunted tongue
That we kept like keys to our clandestine doors
And unsheathed like knives that rose with alacrity
We mused and basked in this decade of vexing silence
Listening to the same stillness and interpolating architectures
But solving different equations with different visions
And as we speak through the grinding pebbles under our feet
We only harry the penultimate flare of the apprehensive dusk
So we can succumb into our individual darkness,
So we can bleed and revel in different places;
Because we can only be faithful with our infidelities
And this savageness that we deny and slept with
Burns out the hapless and sedentary peace that remained.
The clarity that scintillates with the luminaries
Are sundered preventing the eruption of the radiance
That will sharply speak of the ugly truth and madly strip
The sedative rivers of anguish in the forced scars
Because we had prayed for the dark to mantle
Our faces that had already watched the final march
And heard the swansong of the trumpets that are
Still to be commanded by the ashen and bony moon
Soused in the inebriating taste of the waters we treaded.
The dark found its fiendish repose and prowled
Like a panther lurking behind the veiling malignance
Of our self-incarceration and self-love, rivaling
The thwarting chances roaming this evil world
And unleashing the apologetic grips of the manacles
That shudders in our wrists like promises, thus
We decay bloating in this feral growth of self-sympathy
Forgetting and unlearning the water's choreography
And little did we know: we toppled to the unbeknownst
The dark vesper was a munificent curtain
Shrouding our ravenous differences
That spliced a vale in our juxtaposition
Because this ignorance and complacence
Deems itself an auspicious proposition
When you pointed an enraptured saber
To a motionless archenemy beside you
To exonerate a third warfare and the vale
Deluged with a war cry - a cry that spoke of
The night losing his nacreous moon amidst
The plethora of flitting stars and songs,
A cry that broke the chains of innocence
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poem by Norman Santos
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