Sunday, 4 April 2021

Yes, Ships do dance!

Then this myth of an ancient ship 

hauled alone by a prescient fish

sprawled on waves of a drowned wish

They say, I’d made an ordained trip 


I took seeds from Darwin’s stingy grip,

Sealed words from tomes of his niche 

Packed wee wounds on my soul amiss 

They say, I sang of a future in worship  


But what is tomorrow if not an infant of the now 

Cradled, cajoled, in rivers of collective  past

Into delicious torrents of expectant trance 


They say today has been in a quantum vow 

entangled in every ship’s mission to last 

Until the fish learn to fly or maybe to dance  



(Note: Many ancient cultures believed in cycles of time and regeneration, not a start from the scratch. This is a feeble tribute to that idea based on the imagery of a Hindu Purana which talks of Vishnu in the form of a fish who took a boat with representatives of all living creatures and all living knowledge ashore during the “great flood”. As posted to a Facebook poetry group Singpowrimo)

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