Apsara (Thailand. Summer 2010.)

Hidden beneath an alluvial sunset

and longtail-tossed waves,

she gives herself to the Mother Water,

sinking into riverweed and muck.

Bejeweled with leeches and crabs,

her hair is tangled with water

hyacinth roots and as their leaves

become sails, pulled by the wind, so she too goes.

Rice barges swollen with freight

pass overhead;

the riverbed darkens and glows,

darkens and glows.

Her lotus-leaf eyes emanate green dew

as her fingers flit up and back

telling the story of fountains and gusts

through the silted sweet-water.

The rocking hulls of boats above

tap out the rhythm of the Grand Duke’s dance.

Openbill storks sing along as the dusky light

begins to fill with vapor and lightning.

As the percussion quickens,

so does her nymphish undulation.

Her hand runs over a freshwater ray,

lightening its warrior’s load.

The River of Kings is stirring

and the air becomes thick.

The lines between waves

and falling droplets blur.

She spins her epic daily dance,

mesmerizing gods and algae alike.

Her shimmies scatter wriggling bubbles

eroding the cares of  heroes and prawn.

The downpour erupts

into an orchestra,

whistling through frangipanis

and strumming succulent vines.

She careens with water monitors

as her bracelets chime and her silky skirts rise.

She fingers orchids floating

on the co-centric ripples of the Chao Praya.

Mangosteens drop

and dragon fruit roar.

The cacophony of the monsoon

coaxes pregnant trees to bear their fruit.

Banana flowers quake in the wind

and watch as her forehead crests.

The freshet pulls her upward

and her eyes meet with mangoes.

Veils rise into wings.

Air and water merge.

She is the estuary below.

She is the storm above.

Creative Commons love to http://www.flickr.com/photos/7147684@N03/ for the photo!

5 thoughts on “Apsara (Thailand. Summer 2010.)

  1. I really enjoyed the imagery. I would like to read this at our next writer’s association meeting, with your permission.

  2. I’m not gonna lie: I am oftentimes disappointed with the poetry I read from various bloggers I stumble upon. But this is beautiful. It reminds me a lot of Billy Collins. Have you ever read him? It’s not exactly my style (I’m a Stephen Dunn girl, every soft image followed by a harsh truth), but I know how to spot a good poem I can appreciate. Keep writing. Well done.

  3. “If thy expressions
    were the cadence
    of a lover’s navel chime
    the rain soon to fall
    must sound
    as every
    of SIDDHARTHA’S
    temples”

    It’s a great smirk when satisfaction all gathers into a sigh.
    “D” / om

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *