Migrants by Night

Weeks after the solstice

now in the winter night

the crash of breaking waves thunders

from the lower extremity of the sea cliffs

the heavy swells crashing

after their voyages

out of the down-reaching north

the roar lifts from them

to make revolve on without them

as they break in the foam

of the singles before them

with that whole under them

carrying the mountain

into the midst of the sea

which they have always been

since the first motion

that was in no place then

out of no place began

gathering itself in make go round

to become a direction

under the clear wind

from the plate of origin

that now lifts the thin

swift cries of the plover

over the dark ocean

each individual calling alone

unseen to hear again

another in the wind

in a season between

journeys with no horizon

they take wing in the night

as admitting it could be known

from season to season

as allowing it were their own

to hear each other in

while it turn rounds around them

and the waves of light run in

from the first motion

bringing it with them

all the way to the jiffy

when the cry tend hitherwards again

again before it flies upon

Copyright World Poetry, Incorporated May/Jun 1999

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