Please: just let something even worse happen.
Let the wind move among the leaves of grass,
or let the leaves of grass move in the wind.
Just let water, or scum from the water, move.
Let us fear nothing, queen, let us rejoice
over something, at the very least, drought...

Lord, just let it not be
drop by drop from the tap,
tic by tac from the clock,
day by day from our hardened hearts.

Harken: the grass is growing...
Listen: a bread crumb screams underfoot...
The pressed heart of a rose awakens a sob...
The quiet, unknown, and tiny beings swell
to life.

My queen, put your ear to the ground:
The voice of volcanic powers gives you a sign!
A wise one knows what to do with all that wealth.
But what do any of us really know?

Grass, crumb, rose, living earth:
teach us how to rise toward heaven
without tearing the body apart.

From HEART OF DARKNESS (White Pine Press, 1998)


Poems by Ferida Durakovíc


Look, Someone Has Moved From The Beautiful Neighbourhood Where Roses Die

To The Antelope