Monday, August 10, 2009


The escalator flaps
its grey-day tongue
the student union,
until its metronome
under the afternoon
prayer call
of a part-time piano man
reviving his god

And I know, as his
black and white downpour
rainbows my everyday,
that sometimes
to be reborn
is not
the leap of faith,
but a
falling back
into arms
that were
(like stairs)
ever always


Chris Eldin said...

I just read your birthday post and commented...

Lovely photo and poem! Did I say how happy I am you're back to blogging a bit more!

Sarah Hina said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Sarah Hina said...

Chris, thank you for that! :) This poem is likely a tad too convoluted, but I am pleased with the photo of the lily.

Basically, I was sitting in one of the campus buildings, when a piano player started spontaneously playing a couple of floors below. It changed the entire space, in addition to my dissatisfied mood and outlook. And made me realize how often we take these everyday miracles and gifts for granted.

the walking man said...

There are times through out the the day that just call for the unusual to become the norm and the when the big top goes up I like that the tickets are free for the price of some leg work.

Aniket said...

I can picture you hunting for a paper and pen as soon as the piano started playing. :)

Loved the line 'black and white downpour
rainbows my everyday' the most. But of course the entire poem is your usual genius too. :)

Anonymous said...

That piano player must be pretty good. To make the listeners swoon.... :) I need a ton more practice.

Anonymous said...

Oh, and cool macro shot, BTW!

Karen said...

Sarah, what beautiful symmetry of imagery this has -- the grey day, the black and white downpour, the rainbow, rebirth which is not a leap but a falling back, and the straight escalator and the bent stairs. This is masterfully crafted, even while it appears so natural. Wonderful talent you have, Sarah. You are wonderfully gifted!

Charles Gramlich said...

I'm not sure I understand the poem, but I especially like the images that evoke the black and white keys of the piano.

Catvibe said...

Oh and what a rapture that is, that relinquishing of desire for that unobtainable something and a fall back to the joy that was always always there. Beautiful.

And my dear, not dead, Sarah, happy happy birthday. It is so lovely to see the 33 on your sidebar. Those are my numbers in yet another esoteric philosophy. ;0. May it be a lovely fabulous year.

joaquin carvel said...

beautiful introspection - and true, i think - i know i probably miss some rainbows for lack of looking (or listening)- or preferring to move forward instead of trusting the arms behind me. think i'll work on that.

i also love the rainbows, and the piano man's prayer call - i think they give a universality to an inward moment.

Sarah Hina said...

Mark, you make a good point. It takes some work, be it physical or mental, to be ready to receive the good, and elevating, moments.

Aniket, for some reason, I had a block against using the word "rainbow" in a poem. It felt like one of those overused words people might scoff at. But then I remembered Bob Dylan, "A Hard Rain" and she gave me a rainbow, and figured, heck with it. ;) I'm glad it rang true for you.

Jason, it wasn't so much the player or the music (which wasn't anything special), but more the circumstances and the moment I was in.

And I'm sure you play beautifully. ;)

Karen, thank you so much for that. :) I will admit to having some second thoughts about this one, which are likely well founded, but your words did put a smile on my face.

And as usual, you have penetrated the core of what I was trying to cobble together here. I always appreciate your careful readings, Karen.

Charles, thanks, my friend. I can see how the meaning in this one would be elusive.

Cat, thank you for the birthday wishes! :) 33 does look auspicious, doesn't it?

And yes, you have honed in on the simple, but profound, message of what I wanted to convey. It's a pleasure to have you comment on my work, Cat. :)

Joaquin, I still need to work on it, too. I've too often felt that these flashes of appreciation are as fleeting as the moment that spawned them. But maybe by writing them down, they lay some roots.

I'm so glad you pointed out the universality. While I was listening to the music, I noticed many more doing the same. It was a rare moment of connection.

Thank you for the kind words, Joaquin. :)

Aniket said...

Oh, 'love' is probably the most over used word in literature then but we cant do without it can we? :) :)

Bob Dylan is a very wise man. I love is quote:
'All I can be is me, whoever that is'

Sarah Hina said...

Aniket, amen.