here and now
I suppose the wind still blows
at ease across the sleeping face
of the village I fled all those years
ago, and some young man comes
down to the sea and murmurs a word,
his name, or God's, or a child's,
or maybe just the sea's. Let him
be wiser than I, let him fight back
the tears and taste only the sea's salt,
let him take what he can -
the trembling of his hands,
the silence before him, the slow
awakening of his eyes, the windows
of the town opening on first light,
the children starting suddenly
from their twisted sheets with a cry
of neither victory or defeat,
only the surprise of having come back,
to what no one promised, here and now.
-Philip Levine, excerpt from Here and Now
It's only fitting that I celebrate the start of April, and poetry month, with a poem by Philip Levine. The news of his death, over a month ago, really filled me with unexpected sorrow. His poetry have always touched me so deeply, and I plan to share some of them here, in his honor.
Photos were taken in Point Reyes National Seashore, October 2013. I found them again today and was reminded why I love the solitary headlands so much.
Happy April, my friends!