Favourite Poem #2 Still Another Day XXIII by Pablo Neruda

Next favourite poem is from Stones From The Sky by Pablo Neruda, XXIII in particular. I am not one who attempts to glimpse into the mind of the poet rather I enjoy what the words do for me, that resounding moment when first read, hinting at a revelation of self, if only I were brave enough to listen.

I am this naked

echo of underneath:
I am happy
to have come so far,
from so much earth:
I am the last one, barely
guts, body, hands
that split off
from the motherlode
without knowing why,
without hope of staying,
resigned to this flighty human
fate to live and drop like a leaf.
Ah this destiny
of the darkening incessancy,
of being your own – unsculptured granite,
sheer bulk, irreducible, cold:
I was rock, dark rock
and the parting was violent,
a gash of an alien birth:
I want to go back
to that sure thing,
to home base, to the middle
of the stone mother
from which, I don’t know how or when,
I was torn away to be torn apart.

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