Wavering Across Fields Wide and Whole

Poem in English, written at Poesiaeuropa 2023

A dance of the Kristang butterflies
left beyond ideas of hot and cold
emotions. Love is rarely ever, truly, some sort of bizarre victory dance;
instead, you might call it, at least for Fuad and I,
an endless, majestic, gentle road

down which Togepi runs, every day,
Back into your arms, to stay
warm and cool. A breakeven between factuality
and truth. Let the digi-eggs
lie quietly in the First Village, until it is time again for you
to be reborn, little one.
Until it is time again for you
to have your own soul
come into view
in the puddles, the ponds,
the jungle’s morning dew.
The papaya and tapioca fronds
that excite, and make evident
memories of a once great, Life-giving creole stew

we now instead call spacetime.
Memories of another ancient view
of the planet Karimang
we now call darklight.

Memories of another you
that drift in and out on the lalang tides.
Someone, surely, will soon bring good news
that the harvest is bountiful, truly sweet and sour
and abundantly ripe.

Someone soon, will discover
that there are a great may things
hidden in the daintiest seeds, and grains,
and tiny, sieving rice.
Things that buzz and sing and burst and blaze;
things that soar, and fly, and come ever more slowly to shine
in all the infinite flavours of dreaming, flourishing Life.