I feel like I’m just being immersed in poetry this month, which is a good thing, since I’m only being intermittently immersed in rain. Now that we’ve seen a few daffodils, I have become a believer that gray rain, slush and mildew isn’t all the UK has to offer, but parts of my psyche are still out in terms of saying that we like it here or not.
However: the sun is shining NOW, this moment, despite loads of clouds sailing by at a fast clip, and so that deserves some notice.
I copied down this poem because… it’s so not me. I think there’s a teensy riot grrl screeching mouse-like in my inner core. I wish this were me. Maybe it’s kind of like why young readers like fantasy literature; we wish to be powerful. If we were vampires, we’d be up all night, scare the crap out of the establishment, take insane risks, be brilliantly sexy and hey — live forever. If we were witches, it’d be the same, except we’d have more power than to just consume people’s lives. And hey, if we had dragons…
So, I will muse further on my samurai. Old rules and swords for me. Hard men with no time for anything but discipline and rules. As I said: so not me. But I like this poem anyway.
Samurai Song
— by Robert Pinsky
When I had no roof I made
Audacity my roof. When I had
No supper my eyes dined.
When I had no eyes I listened.
When I had no ears I thought.
When I had no thought I waited.
When I had no father I made
Care my father. When I had
No mother I embraced order.
When I had no friend I made
Quiet my friend. When I had no
Enemy I opposed my body.
When I had no temple I made
My voice my temple. I have
No priest, my tongue is my choir.
When I have no means fortune
Is my means. When I have
Nothing, death will be my fortune.
Need is my tactic, detachment
Is my strategy. When I had
No lover I courted my sleep.