SARGASSO


we can find a song
ashore in an island
amidst channels
 somewhere behind a village
 which does not know
 we are there
 somewhere
 where four or five
 lifetimes
 ago
 we remember
 we left
 something
 unfinished
 for you
perhaps
 and for you
 child of worlds
 gone and coming again
crossing
 and back
 tides can always
 demand
that you row only against their
 big assertions
 you
whose skin can be a pale decision
 made against
 or for
but if they see your eyes
 black from the past
 if they see your bone
 which comes from India
 or the hands of the Celt
 who polishes stones
 buries the dead
 with touching

 if they can see
 you will confuse them
 calling names
 which your eyes
 black
with ancient memories
 know better
 than to answer