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Astral Blueberries


I’m lying flat on my back and looking at the open sky. It is clear. There are no stars. Only a single moon.
Is the queen of the night sky smiling at me ?
Or at the seabird sitting at the stern.
Or at her own beauty that is reflected by the sea ?
Well, at least I’m happy that she’s there and she’s smiling.

The seabird has been sitting there, at the pointed end of the boat, quietly, for hours now. She didn’t bring the astral blueberries this time. She couldn’t have forgotten for sure. May be she gave them to others on her way, ones who yearned for them more than I did. May be she traveled too long and couldn’t bring it this far. Had I come that far? In my quest to see new places, to uncover new truths, to discover new wonders, I’d rowed faster and faster towards exotic places in the far corners of the sea. Had I gone too far ?

The astral blueberries, the melodies that resonate my soul - I’ve almost forgotten their taste. Sometimes I feel I’m chewing on to one – one of those soft fleshy fruits which melt in my mouth and taste like honey .. and then suddenly wake up to find that there is nothing. I lick my lips and close my eyes – to feel the long lost taste. Renewing remembrances – those old songs – they do play a tug of war with my heart.
Ttime, time, time, take me back.

A seems to always have them. How does she manage? Maybe a singer always takes them along, in a tiny chest in some unknown corner. May be a singer has a bottomless bowl of astral blueberries. She threw one at me yesterday. I bent down to pick it up and I saw three more. Quite a magic! We ate them together.

I’m in need of them again

I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!

There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.

~ Elizabeth Bishop

Comments

Punit Pandey said…
Stumbled upon your blog while searching Ruskin Bond's "The Eyes Are Not Here". It is my favorite too.
11:56 AM
Ash said…
I am in need of words
Flapping like birds
On distant hills; rhyming out of
My husband's fingertips

Exhilarating, healing
Sketching a symphony
Of feeling on a
Canvas of thin air!

There is magic in his tone
Pure stream hushing, cooling
Joyful, light, true, strong
All I desire, now nd ever!
1:22 PM
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