Whispered Vespers
every word
was a secret
no matter how attentive I was
I could not hear
<>
I saw lips move
mouth close to my ear
I feel the warm breath
the urgency
<>
something I was never to repeat
a secret I could keep
because I never heard it
it was safe with me
<>
final words
never to be repeated
for me to hear
I had my chance
<>
I failed to understand
but knew I had been spoken to
which was enough
to sustain me
This piece was partially prompted by those scenes in a movie where a dying character last words aren’t heard clearly – the words were to reveal something important – because dying last words always reveal something important – a clue to the killer, directions to the buried treasure. They never utter things like ‘Fuck you’ or ‘More light.’
It’s also about our inability to hear unless it’s delivered in a way we understand easily, in a way we find acceptable. I prefer subtitled movies to ones that are dubbed – I like to hear the actual tone of voice which contains as much information as the words used. I have watched Asian movies, spoke in one laughs with subtitles in another & rather enjoyed creating my own sense of story from the visuals & tone of voice.
It also has become a reflection on what we don’t understand the past, how the physical evidence refuses to be translated into something we can comprehend. I’ve seen a documentary on the Phaistos Disc (from between 1850 B.C. and 1600 B.C & one on the Voynich Manuscript (carbon dated to early 15th century) – both are clear whispers that have, so far, remained, impenetrable to our understanding of language. But, maybe, like the Aztec pictograms they can be unravelled.
These whispered last words are like illusive dream memories that can’t be pieced together. There maybe an image I can recalled but it doesn’t unlock the whole dream but at least I know I’ve been asleep & that I had a dream.
TOpoet 