MEETING NEIL GAIMAN (2005)

I originally wrote this in the old version of this blog in 2005. It was originally entitled “Beso-Beso with Neil Gaiman” but non-Filipinos wouldn’t understand that “beso-beso” means “air kiss”, or cheek kisses among friends, like the Europeans do. I’m glad I found this account again, because this was 14 years ago and I had forgotten some of the little details that made the meeting interesting.

Incidentally, the book “Melinda” never came to light; I wonder if I heard wrong or if it was rewritten with another title.

——-

Brandishing his Omas 1950s flexi-nib fountainpen, he signed in burgundy ink on the frontispiece of my “Brief Lives” graphic novel (Sandman Volume 7): “Mona, Sweet Dreams — Neil Gaiman.” A salesgirl took our photo (I made sure I brought my digital camera), but I won’t be posting it here; it’s for my secret delectation. I’m so glad I didn’t do anything stupid like burst into tears or freeze. In a tiny voice I managed to say, “Thanks for signing, Neil.” He smiled and said, “You’re welcome, Mona.” Then I bent down a bit to make beso beso, and to my surprise it wasn’t an air-kiss — he kissed my right cheek. (All the girls were doing it, so I figured I’d get in on the kissing action, hehehe.) As I straightened up again, clutching my book in a sort of daze, I realized how exceedingly tired he was. Poor guy. He looked like he hadn’t slept for weeks and sported massive eye luggage. But he was determined to accommodate as many fans as possible.

YES!!! YES!!! YES!!! I walked out the bookstore with a spring in my step and with a stupid grin on my face.

(In your mind picture me jumping up and down on Oprah’s yellow sofa a la the delirious Tom Cruise, and you can imagine how ridiculous it looks. Of course, I didn’t really do that. But I tell you, it felt so great to be so amply rewarded for waiting in line at Fully Booked Gateway for nearly six hours last Monday, on the last day of Neil’s signing tour in Manila.)

Neil is such a simpatico person; incredibly kind, patient and generous to all his fans. I suppose he was pleasantly surprised to realize his fan base in the Philippines was bigger than his publishers had originally thought. I guess he didn’t expect that thousands of fans would want to meet him (I heard some fans even travelled to Manila from as far away as Davao and Cebu). Last night I read his blog and he said he “never felt more loved by so many people”, that Pinoys were more enthusiastic than the Brazilians in expressing their cheer, and that he was thinking of returning again to Manila, perhaps in a couple of years or so.

I was number 480 in a line of just over 600 fans who heroically lined up. When I arrived at Gateway, the line began outside Fully Booked on the third floor and snaked down two flights of stairs to outside the Aurora Boulevard exit to the front of the nearest 7-11. I tell you, the sight of that line would have discouraged a less determined person. I just felt that getting Neil’s autograph would be worth it. For the first two hours the line stayed put and I had nothing to do but stare at the changing cloud patterns in the sliver of blue sky between the mall and the MRT. My friend Juned advised via text: “Imagine you’re back in UP enlisting for classes.”

Originally, rules stated that one had to buy a book from Fully Booked in order to get a signing pass. Later on they changed the rules, allowing people to bring any Gaiman book they owned for signing. Those who bought a book and got a signing pass were then entitled to have two books signed. This was a good idea, since most fans, like myself, had already bought books prior to the signing promo. Changing the rules meant that more people would participate, and that any marketing data they would gather from the signing promo would be more representative of Neil’s fan base.

Waiting in line can get interesting, though. Two college girls behind me were looking at Neil’s picture on the back cover of my graphic novel. Later, as we approached Neil’s table, they looked at him and back at the photo and whispered to each other: “He’s that lolo (grandfather)-looking guy? But he’s OLD!!!” I wanted to laugh; and then I felt my age. When Vertigo first published Sandman I was just out of college. I was young enough to have borrowed and read the comics when they first came out but couldn’t afford to buy them at the time. These two girls each had a paperback copy of “Stardust” which (apart from the paperback of “Coraline”) was among the more affordable Gaiman books in the market (roughly PhP 350). Two lawyers lined up just ahead of me were clutching hardbound graphic novels that cost nearly PhP 2000 each (One was the Sandman Dustcovers book and the other was Marvel’s latest release, “1602”.) I couldn’t help but overhear that one of them even bought a VHS tape box set of “Neverwhere” from the BBC when he was last in London. Normally I’d be secretly peeved if it sounded as if he was gloating about his purchase, but he sounded so happy to have bought it even if it was in PAL-SECAM format and not compatible with his player, I couldn’t begrudge him his glee.

The crowd kept their good humor, though. Several times as the line moved, we saw a good-looking young guy counting people in the line. He turned out to be named Jaime, and was apparently the manager of Fully Booked Gateway. I joked to the two girls behind me: “Sa kanya na lang kaya tayo magpa-sign? Cute pa naman siya.” (“Shall we have HIM sign our books instead? He’s cute.”) The two promptly developed a crush on him, entertaining themselves taking pictures of him with their camera phones. As for the two lawyers ahead of me, they joked that Bro. Eddie Villanueva could only get 2000 people to attend his people power rally, while everybody else would have preferred to wait in line for Neil Gaiman.

I guess for a lot of people meeting Neil Gaiman was a positive, life-defining moment. The last time I felt like this was when I had waited in line to get tickets for seats I wanted at the first Sting concert in Manila ten years ago. Of course my collection is far from complete, and Neil has two books still to be released, “Melinda” and “Anansi Boys.” And who knows? Maybe one day soon they’ll screen “Mirrormask” here. Or release it on DVD. Like many fans, I’ll be waiting.

In the meantime, I have introduced my mom to the pleasures of reading Neil Gaiman. (Really!)

AT THE SYMPHONY

Last night, my family and I went to see the Manila Symphony Orchestra play Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, at the Meralco Theater. It was my first concert in years (the last time I watched one was in 2008, I think), and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

We got good seats, since my sister bought the tickets way back in October (for a 25% discount!). We were near the front, on the left side of the theater, with a good view of everything.

It was good to hear Beethoven’s 9th Symphony in its entirety.  Of course, everyone is familiar with the melody of “Ode to Joy” (taken from a poem written by Friedrich Schiller), the climactic last movement. The first part of the symphony had a lot of stirring piano.  The middle, the Adagio, had a moving, tender theme expressed by violins.  When “Ode to Joy” came along, we were treated to a choir (made up of smaller choirs) and guest soloists, in a rousing, uplifting, triumphant wall of sound.  This earned the orchestra and singers a standing ovation.

Sitting near the front, I was able to observe the different musicians closely.  One cellist’s bow had a broken string.  The percussionist playing the triangle was very precise, you could still hear the triangle above the cymbals. The Japanese pianist played with confidence and verve, it was a pleasure to see her perform.  Watching the conductor and his movements was fascinating; he had excellent control over the entire score.

If the theater had been any further away from our house I don’t think we would have braved the traffic to see the concert.  As it was we were able to get to the theater in 30 minutes. There are so many good concerts being shown nowadays. But I was happy to see this one; it stirred my heart. It was a rare treat.

 

 

 

THE READING GROUP

One of the members of our Manila fountain pen group decided to start a small book club.  We had our first meeting last weekend, where we figured out what books we’d all like to read.  We’ll focus on a book each month, focusing initially on Filipino writers writing in English.  There are so many good books out there, but it’s a shame not to read the writers of one’s own country.  The guys in our group made a request not to have to read romance novels, and the rest of us heartily agreed (hahaha!).

This May we’re tackling the late Kerima Polotan‘s 1961 Stonehill Award-winning novel “The Hand of the Enemy”.  In June we’ll be reading her collection of essays “Adventures in a Forgotten Country”.  Both books are published by the University of the Philippines Press.  Also in our list is Jose Y. Dalisay, Jr.‘s Killing Time in a Warm Place (Anvil Publishing), a novel based on his experiences as a Martial Law detainee.  (Incidentally, Butch Dalisay is the founder of our fountain pen group.  We’re asking him to sign our copies.)  We’ll follow with National Artist Nick Joaquin‘s May Day Eve & Other Stories.  Next up is Esteban Javellana‘s 1947 classic “Without Seeing The Dawn” (which was made into a Tagalog tv mini-series when I was a child).  We’re also reading young Palanca winner F. H. Batacan‘s mystery novel featuring a “Jesuit priest who is also a forensic anthropologist as sleuth”, Smaller and Smaller Circles (UP Press).  Then we’ll read another classic of  Filipino immigrant fiction, Carlos Bulosan‘s America is in the Heart (Anvil Publishing). Just so we don’t get stuck on novels, we also picked a book of essays edited by Erlinda Panlilio, The Manila We Knew (Anvil Publishing). Then for something totally different, there’s Resil Mojares‘s Isabelo’s Archive (Anvil Publishing), a compilation of essays and notes on Philippine culture and history, based “on Isabelo de los Reyes’ groundbreaking attempt to build an archive of popular knowledge in the Philippines.”  And then there is Bambi Harper‘s new historical novel, Agueda (University of Sto. Tomas Publishing House).  There is also Luis Francia‘s History of the Philippines: From Indios Bravos to Filipinos to consider.

The titles or order of reading might change.  But it’s good to have a reading list.  If we didn’t sit down to plan this, we wouldn’t know where to start! We can’t always meet in person, but we can always email our reading notes to each other.

From this list you can see we all have this common interest in literature, history (national and personal) and culture.  Indeed, in Jose Rizal’s words, “Ang hindi marunong lumingon sa pinanggalingan ay hindi makakarating sa kanyang paroroonan.” (He who does not look back from where he came will never reach his destination.)

CHINATOWN FOOD TRIP

Manila’s Chinatown dates back to 1594, and is the oldest Chinatown in the world. The area is called Binondo, and I’ve only been there exactly four times in the past.  All four times involved visits to restaurants and delis.  Each time I discovered something delightful and new.  This weekend’s trip was no different.

My brother-in-law Tristan has a favorite pay parking area near Binondo Church (the Minor Basilica of St. Lorenzo Ruiz).  When we got there at around 10:30am, nearly every parking slot was already taken.  Our friend Elma had Ivan Dy’s Binondo Food Wok map from when she went on the tour.  We only had until 2pm to walk around and eat, so it was great to have someone lead us who’d done it before.

Our first stop was Dong Bei Dumplings (624 Yuchengco St., behind the church), home of the best steamed dumplings in town.  When we got there, the place was already full!  Ivan Dy had a walking tour group already booked, and they took up all five tables.  Elma and my sister Joy ordered packs of dumplings to bring home, since they sold out pretty quickly.  We said we’d return when Ivan’s group was done.

We thought we’d have coffee and snacks at Cafe Mezzanine, the Volunteer Firemen’s Cafe.  Chinatown’s brave Filipino-Chinese firemen are usually the first to arrive at any fire in the city (yes, ahead of the neighborhood firemen, sometimes).  The cafe supports all of their activities.  It’s located above the Eng Bee Tin deli along Ongpin St., next to Binondo Church.  Their eye-catching purple fire truck is usually parked alongside, colored after the deli’s famous ube hopia (pastry filled with mashed purple yam).

Firemen’s hats and other gear decorate the cafe.  We ordered espressos and a variety of savory snacks, among them kiampong (fried rice topped with sauteed peanuts), machang (glutinous rice filled with stewed pork and wrapped in a banana leaf), fried radish cake, and crab cake (actually crab balls, served with sweet and sour sauce).  People who try only the kiampong are sometimes not impressed; they just do not realize that it is probably meant to be eaten with another viand for a contrast of textures and flavors.

Yes, it looks like a light lunch, but these are actually small servings shared by the four of us.  The coffee was quite good.  Our bill came to a total of P550 (about USD 13.50).  One added plus for us girls was that the cafe had a very clean toilet.

We walked back to Dong Bei, and ordered a plate of steamed pork and kuchay (chive) dumplings, and a plate of fried pancakes stuffed with the same mixture.  Wanting more, we later ordered another plate of steamed kuchay-only dumplings.  Each plate was P100 (just over USD 2) – there were 14 steamed dumplings per order, and four fried pancakes the size of coasters, sliced into quarters.

These were the absolute freshest dumplings I’ve ever had in my entire life.  The dough was soft, yet strong enough to hold the tasty filling either while being steamed or fried.  They were served with Chinese black vinegar.

Both the steamed dumplings and the fried stuffed pancakes were made right in front of us, at the next table.

The packs of frozen dumplings we ordered each contained 31 dumplings at P200 (roughly USD 5) each.  We bought 3 packs and received one pack free!  The instructions were to boil five minutes or steam seven minutes directly from the freezer.  We also received small containers of the black vinegar to go with our order.  The very kind owner agreed to keep them in her freezer until we were finished with our walk.

We went to Bee Tin, a traditional Chinese grocery on 735 Ongpin St.  We bought two kinds of kiamoy (salty red, or sweet black preserved plums), preserved sweet olives (P75) and 250g of Tie GuanYin Oolong loose leaf tea (P150).  Elma was looking for White Rabbit milk candies, but there were none to be had.

We moved to another grocery down the road, Shin Tai-Shang, which specialized in Taiwanese food products and assorted dry goods.  We bought fruit tarts with salted egg yolk inside them (green tea and plum, red bean, pineapple, and lotus – P40 each).  The owner described the filling as somewhat similar in consistency to that of moon cake.  We also bought a couple of curried chicken turnovers (P45 each, quite good).

After North Ongpin bridge we came across Salazar Bakery, where we bought fortune cookies (P78).

We then went looking for the corner of Ongpin and Bahama St, where the Shanghai Fried Siopao stall is.  They sell steamed pork buns (P16 each) browned on a griddle, among other food items.  As soon as we got there a line began to form.  We bought some to take home with us for Sunday breakfast (delicious!).  As we were waiting for our change, I saw a pedicab pass by with a barking chihuahua in it, riding like a queen.  I wish I had taken a photo, but I didn’t want to get accidentally knocked down by a car.

By that time it was just around 1pm and we needed a pick-me-up.  In front of us was Sa Lido restaurant (839 Ongpin St.), which was famous for its siphon coffee and roast pork asado.  We walked into the place, and saw from an autographed photo that it was a favorite hangout of Manila Mayor Alfredo Lim.  There were groups of old men relaxing and chatting, and ladies enjoying noodles.  Since we were still full from the dumplings, we opted for iced coffee (P80; a happier price than at Starbucks).  They also had a nice clean toilet.

We started walking back towards Yuchengco St., and passed by a sugarcane vendor.  We bought one pack (P60) for my 7-year-old niece to chew on.  Along with the sugarcane he sold cogon grass roots, which are apparently made into a medicinal juice.

We finally claimed our frozen dumplings and walked back to the car.  We spent only P320 each (not including tips and other take-home food), although you could easily spend less than that and still be quite satisfied.

In case you’re planning on a Binondo food trip this summer, please wear light clothing and comfortable shoes, wear lots of sunblock, and bring reusable shopping bags, your camera, and cash in small bills with you.  You can buy your mineral water along the way.

There’s still so much of that food map to cover!  We’re planning to return very soon.  One day I’ll take Ivan Dy’s tour, to be able to appreciate not only the food, but Chinatown’s history and culture as well.

TWO OLD PAMPANGA CHURCHES

Last August I joined a group of friends on a day tour of Pampanga.  It’s north of Manila, about a drive of an hour and a half.  We had a special ten-course lunch scheduled at Bale Dutung, but had the morning free to visit a couple of old  churches and take photos.

The San Guillermo Parish Church of Bacolor dates back to Spanish times.  After the original church (constructed in 1576) was destroyed in an earthquake, it was rebuilt in 1897.  In 1991 half the church was buried in lahar during the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo.  In one of the photos below you’ll see that the arched windows on the sides of the church are now as low as the tops of the pews.

From Bacolor we traveled to Betis, Guagua – an old town famous for hand-carved furniture.  Built in the 18th century, the Parish Church of Santiago Apostol (St. James the Apostle) is known for its splendid retablo art.  Its facade is quite simple and relatively recent, but old carvings decorate the church door and selected pieces of the church’s original wooden furniture.  The altar is rich with more carvings, gilt and saints.  But the showstopper is the church’s ceiling, painted in the early 20th century.  We were requested by church staff not to use flash photography, to protect the artwork.

The lovely thing about these churches is that they’re still working churches, serving loyal parish families throughout their town’s history.  If you have a long weekend coming up, a map, a camera, and a sense of adventure, this sort of trip is immensely rewarding.

DINING AT BALE DUTUNG

When our American friend Tom said he’d finally visit the Philippines last August, Carlos immediately organized a trip to the province of Pampanga, complete with a ten-course lunch at Claude and Mary Ann Tayag’s restaurant, Bale Dutung.

“Bale Dutung” means “house of wood”.  If this house looks somewhat familiar, it’s because it was featured in Anthony Bourdain‘s Philippines episode on No Reservations.  Here’s the Pampanga clip on Youtube, showing artist and chef Claude Tayag‘s restaurant.

Mary Ann Tayag welcomed the seven of us warmly.  We had to call ahead and reserve, so the Tayags could put us together with another small group in order to make the 12-head minimum.  We chose the “Anthony Bourdain menu”, which referred to an all-Kapampangan lineup of dishes.  As each dish was served, Mary Ann would annotate, explaining the origins and flavors of each dish.

A salad of wild ferns and tomatoes topped with half a soft-boiled egg.

Grilled chicken buttons (it’s the behind, folks!) with brown rice.

Quail stewed in soy sauce, garlic and vinegar (adobo), with egg pan de sal.

Lechon (roast pork) taco.  Each diner is served only one ( in order for them to be able to appreciate the rest of the ten-course meal properly), but the fixings are buffet style.

Beef bone marrow.  You get a wooden popsicle stick to scoop out the delicious marrow with, plus a straw to help you get all the juices.

A thick guava-flavored soup called “bulanglang”, featuring “ulang” (large river prawns).  There’s a small serving of plain rice inside the banana leaf package.

Seafood kare-kare (a stew with peanut sauce).

The courses I didn’t photograph were the appetizers (crackers and three dips made of homemade herb pesto, “taba ng talangka” or crab fat, and “balao-balao” or fermented rice flavored with shrimps); the coffee and dessert (maja blanca with corn and young coconut).

The meal took us four hours to consume!  It was amazing how we could all still stand up at the end of it all.  Claude visited our table and signed the books we bought.  He and Mary Ann co-authored the book Linamnam, a regional food guide to the Philippines (Anvil Publishing, 2011).  Claude also styled Kulinarya (A Guidebook to Philippine Cuisine), by Glenda Rosales Barretto.

Was it worth it?  Foreign visitors and locals who aren’t too familiar with Pampanga cuisine (like myself) can definitely check this menu out.  Some of the dishes were known quantities with a distinctly Pampanga/Tayag twist.  Some, like the balao-balao dip and the guava-redolent bulanglang, were exotic. If that doesn’t strike your fancy, there are also other menus to choose from.  I truly enjoyed Mary Ann’s entertaining and informative spiels, and learned a lot about Pampanga’s rich history and culture through its food.

What to do after an afternoon of eating?  We decided we all wanted a richer dessert, and went all the way to Kabigting’s a few towns away in Arayat, for white halo-halo (with pastillas milk candy instead of ube jam)!

Thank you, Tom, for visiting the Philippines, because if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have thought of going on this Pampanga food tour!

TWO POEMS BY WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

I just found out via The New York Times today that Polish poet and 1996 Nobel prizewinner Wislawa Szymborska had passed away.

I had been lucky enough to buy a copy of her book, View With A Grain of Sand: Selected Poems, several years ago at a local bookstore.  Later, I found that my sister also owned a copy of her Poems: New and Collected, which contained basically the same poems as in my book, but including newer works.

A former member of the Polish Communist Party, Szymborska later turned away from her early “Stalinist” work.  She was also an essayist and translator.  Shortly after winning the Nobel Prize, she said in a New York Times interview that although “life crosses politics… my poems are strictly not political. They are more about people and life.”  Many of her poems that I have read deal with the aftermath of war, of people rising from its ashes.  Her words can be stark, but manage to convey hopefulness and sympathy.

I wanted to share here two of her poems, which I enjoyed reading:

CAT IN AN EMPTY APARTMENT

Die — you can’t do that to a cat.
Since what can a cat do
In an empty apartment?
Climb up the walls?
Rub up against the furniture?
Nothing seems different here,
but nothing is the same.
Nothing has been moved,
but there’s more space.
At at nighttime no lamps are lit.

Footsteps on the staircase,
but they’re new ones.
The hand that puts fish in the saucer
has changed, too.

Something doesn’t start
at its usual time.
Something doesn’t happen
as it should.
Someone was always, always here
Then suddenly disappeared,
And stubbornly stays disappeared.

Every closet has been examined.
Every shelf has been explored.
Excavations under the carpet turned up nothing.
A commandment was even broken,
papers scattered everywhere.
What remains to be done.
Just sleep and wait.

Just wait till he turns up,
Just let him show his face.
Will he ever get a lesson
on what not to do with a cat.
Sidle towards him
as if unwilling
and ever so slow
on visibly offended paws,
and no leaps or squeals at least to start.

NOTHING TWICE

Nothing can ever happen twice.
In consequence, the sorry fact is
That we arrive here improvised
And leave without the chance to practice.

Even if there is no one dumber,
if you’re the planet’s biggest dunce,
you can’t repeat the class in summer:
this course is offered only once.

No day copies yesterday,
no two nights will teach what bliss is
in precisely the same way,
with exactly the same kisses.

One day, perhaps, some idle tongue
mentions your name by accident:
I feel as if a rose were flung
into the room, all hue and scent.

The next day, though, you’re here with me
I can’t help looking at the clock:
A rose?  A rose? What could that be?
Is it a flower or a rock?

Why do we treat the fleeting day
with so much needless fear and sorrow?
It’s in its nature not to stay
Today is always gone tomorrow.

With smiles and kisses, we prefer
to seek accord beneath our star,
although we’re different (we concur)
just as two drops of water are.

(translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh,
from “View with a Grain of Sand”, Harcourt Brace & Co., 1995)

There are more translations of Szymborska’s poems online on the Polish-American Network, Poets.org, and the State University of New York (Buffalo).

POEMS BY TOMAS TRANSTROMER

Last October 6th, I woke up to the announcement that the Nobel Committee had awarded the 2011 Nobel Prize for Literature to Swedish poet Tomas Transtromer.  He bested other luminaries in the running such as Syrian poet Adonis and Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami (even long shot Bob Dylan).  Considered Sweden’s greatest living poet, Transtromer’s work has been translated into 50 languages.  Ironically, despite being a best-seller in Sweden, Transtromer is not as well-known in other parts of the world.  He recently turned 80, and continues to write poetry.

I am posting three of his poems that I like here, and am as of now actively looking for any of his poetry collections. The New York Observer says a number of Transtromer’s poem collections in English will certainly be reprinted following his win.  Wikipedia also lists his published books in English translation.  As a layman I find it easier to approach Nobel Prizewinning works in poetry since short but complete samples are available online for immediate appreciation.  I hope you enjoy the three I’ve selected:

THE TREE AND THE SKY
(translated by Robin Fulton)

There’s a tree walking around in the rain,
it rushes past us in the pouring grey.
It has an errand.  It gathers life
out of the rain like a blackbird in an orchard.

When the rain stops, so does the tree.
There it is, quiet on clear nights
waiting as we do for the moment
when the snowflakes blossom in space.

APRIL AND SILENCE
(translated by Robin Fulton)

Spring lies desolate.
The velvet-dark ditch
crawls by my side
without reflections.

The only thing that shines
is yellow flowers.

I am carried in my shadow
like a violin
in its black case.

The only thing I want to say
glitters out of reach
like the silver
in a pawnbroker’s.

THE COUPLE
(translated by Robert Bly)

They switch off the light and its white shade
glimmers for a moment before dissolving
Like a tablet in a glass of darkness.  Then up.
The hotel walls rise into the black sky.
The movements of love have settled, and they sleep
but their most secret thought meet as when
two colors meet and flow into each other
on the wet paper of a schoolboy’s painting.
It is dark and silent.  But the town has pulled closer
tonight.  With quenched windows.  The houses have approached.
They stand close up in a throng, waiting,
a crowd whose faces have no expressions.

All poems copyright Tomas Transtromer.  Many thanks to John Baker, Bloodaxe Blogs, and Transtromer.net for texts of these poems.

SOME FEEL RAIN

by Joanna Klink

Some feel rain. Some feel the beetle startle
in its ghost-part when the bark
slips. Some feel musk. Asleep against
each other in the whiskey dark, scarcely there.
When it falls apart, some feel the moondark air
drop its motes to the patch-thick slopes of
snow. Tiny blinkings of ice from the oak,
a boot-beat that comes and goes, the line of prayer
you can follow from the dusking wind to the snowy owl
it carries. Some feel sunlight
well up in blood-vessels below the skin
and wish there had been less to lose.
Knowing how it could have been, pale maples
drowsing like a second sleep above our temperaments.
Do I imagine there is any place so safe it can’t be
snapped? Some feel the rivers shift,
blue veins through soil, as if the smokestacks were a long
dream of exhalation. The lynx lets its paws
skim the ground in snow and showers.
The wildflowers scatter in warm tints until
the second they are plucked. You can wait
to scrape the ankle-burrs, you can wait until Mercury
the early star underdraws the night and its blackest
districts. And wonder. Why others feel
through coal-thick night that deeply colored garnet
star. Why sparring and pins are all you have.
Why the earth cannot make its way towards you.

From Poems.com

W. S. MERWIN: THANKS

From Poets.org:

THANKS
by W. S. Merwin

Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water thanking it
smiling by the windows looking out
in our directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks we are saying thank you
in the faces of the officials and the rich
and of all who will never change
we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is

[Many thanks to Mai Tatoy, who posted this on Facebook in this, one of our nation’s darkest hours.]