Kahlil in the Desert

I recently sent a copy of Kahlil Gibran's 'The Prophet' to one of the dedicated readers of 'So Large Against the Sky' - my dear cousin A. I first read the book on a holy mountain in India, right outside the city of Pushkar. The mountain is actually one of a pair that bookend the city, each with a temple at the top. One temple is dedicated to Brahma's wife, Savriti. The other to Brahma's brief mistress, Gayatri, of whom Savriti did *not* approve.



I'm not sure which mountain it was, actually, but I had gone past the temple to sit on some isolated rocks in Rajastan's lovely, desert-scape. I pulled out 'The Prophet' and slowly, worshipfully read each passage. Each word feels so right.

Here is one sample, from the section on eating and drinking:

And in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyards for the winepress,
say in your heart,
"I too am a vineyard, and my fruit shall be gathered for the winepress,
And like new wine I shall be kept in eternal vessels."
And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup;
And let there be in the song a remembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for the winepress.


I too am a vineyard.

Case of You

I adore the song 'Case of You' by Joni Mitchell. My goodness does that woman have a good voice. It slides up and down, so delicate but deeply strong, giving this hint of something you can't quite detect behind the face of the music and simultaneously showing you all the way in.

I thought, though it's a little silly, that I would just print the lyrics to Case of You in poem form, for general enjoyment...

Just before our love got lost you said

I am as constant as the northern star.

And I said, 'Constant in the darkness.

Where's that at?

If you want me I'll be in the bar.'

On the back of a carton coaster,

In the blue TV screen light,

I drew a map of Canada, Oh Canada,

With your face sketched on it twice.

I am a lonely painter.

I live in a box of paints.

I'm frightened by the devil,

And drawn to those ones that ain't afraid.

I remember the time you told me,

Love is touching souls.

Well, surely you touch mine, 'cause

Part of you pours out of me

In these lines from time to time.

I met a woman.

She had a mouth like yours.

She knew your life.

She knew your devils and your deeds.

And she said, 'Go to him.

Stay with him if you can.

But be prepared to bleed.'

But you're in my blood like holy wine.

You taste so bitter and so sweet.

I could drink a case of you, darling,

And still be on my feet.

I would still be on my feet.