Rememories
Derek Talbott

I rise and tread amid sweet lilacs through the shades of dawn
Towards the cypress trees around these pebble paths
And from their shaking leaves my lungs pretend to extract
The thousand dreams the morning sun has vaporized. 

I rise and talk to monks about infinitesimal perfection
In front of cold and silent mirrors blurring my viságe
Except the timid candle in my wrinkled hand 
Which cannot melt the darkness of my hollowed heart. 

I rise and rest my head against these marble pillars 
To hear the secret whispers gushing through their inner veins
Yet only hear the soothing clamour of the afterglow 
​As birds break out to hide behind the fields again. 

But oh, I fall and kneel against the sacred fountain 
To see the virgin moon emerge from dark, abysmal waters
And though I’ve never trusted such a clear mirage
I bend to kiss the moon and drink her honey’d lies: 

A myriad dreams from another life 
No one yet lived, but one about to be 
And there it is, 
Your heartbreaking laughter, your timid smile
Your gazeless stare, your mesmerizing eyes 
In the garden, in the palace 
In your solitude, in a multitude 
Corporeal, ethereal 
Ephemeral, eternal 
Woke and oh! 

The moon and waters dry away to die among the clouds 
To leave me blind behind the sun’s imperious light 
And though I’d like to paint the skies with grey melancholy
I’d rather count the grains of sand until the last one falls

For only then I’ll know for sure that we shall meet
Not in the melodies of birds around the monastery
Not in the patterns of the petals of a petty flower
​But in this dimension, without rememories 
As one and many, 
And real.

Derek is a poet and painter at Pomona aspiring to become a screenwriter.