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Thoughts By The Seine


It is in these rare seconds
When the body is stilled
By afternoon rivers like the Seine
When we momentarily look out
From the banks, come upon finest
Seine, upon a sudden space

From the tight spiral of our lives.
We are informed by shadow
Quietly fishing from a rock:
By reflections on the river wall
Of the sun busy with colors
On a canvas of late water.

Alone, we stall on the time
We stole from colleagues on
A bus and cathedral hunts:
Time when we stand in Paris
That is not only Paris, fall
Back to a home not merely Asia:

Time when we catch some unity
Of spheres, and find the gleam
Of our only permanence: a simple
Small matter blending in the all
Of a singular tide: bedded in that
Cosmic wash and hidden dash.

© Luis Cabalquinto

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Thoughts By
The Seine

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