Sunday, June 09, 2013

The Moment

The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,

is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can’t breathe.

No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.
— Margaret Atwood
Jamie Wyeth, The Swing


Kathleen said...

Thanks for this!

jeronimus said...

Hi Kathleen. She was here in Aus recently for a writers' festival.
I've loved her novels for ages but only discovered her poetry recently.

Emma said...

This is a gem of a poem and one on my personal favourites.
Such a profound wisdom...
and so much love in the last sentences: never found us, it was always the other way around....

Thank you, Jeronimus.

jeronimus said...

Hi Emma. I am looking forward to reading more of her poetry!

Mr. Lasik said...

What a strange picture! Where is it from?

jeronimus said...

Hi Mr Lasik. Yes, the painting by Jamie Wyeth has a dream-like mood to it. I think I came across it on Pinterest.

Monica Poorna said...

Shri, you are really talented and this is inspiring. Have you considered publishing some of your poetry as a booklet? Or perhaps you've already done that, and if so, could you tell me where it can be purchased?

Please keep writing.. I see this post was from June, you should write more often :)

Steve Finnell said...