FEBY JOSEPH

★ ★ ★ ★

POETRY

Planning an itinerary to visit the moon

There must be a beach on the moon –
A lonely and long silver stretch
where insomnia and dreams hold symposiums;
Have discussions on ambition and destiny;
Hotly debate freewill and fate
Under a blue shining earth in the equinox of night.

Fishes and Pigs must sojourn there
After their earthly plights
Just like our vapour-bodies which holiday there
In the deep hours of the night
Floating like yellow balloons
Tethered by silver threads to our bed-bound flesh.

Maybe the genesis of art is there –
At these meetings of minds.
The soft ostinato of the moon-sea waves
Must herald Chopin’s nocturnes.
Or the leaves of Whitman’s sea poems
Or the moon-salt encrusted drifts of Debussy’s ‘La mer’.

There must be white steam-trains
That escort to the moon
Forgotten dreams from our now-distant childhood
Like paper boats carrying ant-passengers
Propelled with prayers into brooks,
Trailing behind, fast fading white puffs of steam.

Clotted memories and pains must ferry at midnight,
Suddenly – on ash-white yachts;
Jettison in spas for rumination and healing
And sneak back in, just as suddenly
For we go to bed with heavy eyes
We wake at dawn, different – Unexpectedly smiling.

Surely the beach on the moon is a waiting room
(Finally) For all our souls in transit
Where we meet old friends by that midnight bay
While we languorously tan our new skin
Under a glowing blue earth
As we await the onward journey with a blank ticket.