A Thing To Speak Of
I could have been a thing spoken,
a fine Chinese porcelain vase for instance
with all my nature painted upon it.
Herons in flight, storks stalking,
ibis reciting the ‘I Ching’ to other ibis,
lotus and chrysanthemums
floating upon silky everlasting clouds -
a clear visual thing that can be spoken of.
Not this roughhewn wooden bowl of a being.
I could have been read by scholars,
translated into a hundred languages,
held up to the light
a translucent testament to imagery and
and all pictographic symbolism,
an objective reality
shaped by the light that comes through me,
not this thick hollowed out bowl
full of a bitter brew
only fit to be drunk by drunks
and other roughhewn poets.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2021
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