The poet and the poetess

The poet stood

on the peak of his lonely island

gazing at the ocean’s infinity from every direction

as the breeze ruffled his hair

and the waves crashed on reefs in slow motion

throwing geysers of foam and water in the air

Everywhere around him

grey needles stood

sharpened by the wind as seasons passed

The poet was as familiar with this rugged landscape

as with his own hands

This was the realm where he was born

where he had always lived

This was his comfort zone

as he clad himself in his coat

of melancholy and fierceness

away from the world

The only thing that sometimes made him feel like

lowering his guard and opening the door of his heart

was this dream he kept on doing

over and over and over

he was looking for a very special book

in an endless library

he was looking for something, someone

who was so, so dear to his heart

And once he had seen his face

shining like a thousand stars

and felt her embrace

He had then sung to the wind a call, a plea

for her to hear and come to him, to his lonely island

but nothing had happened since

and he had stopped dreaming of her altogether

Was it all an illusion of her spirit

or was she truly real

Sometimes in the depth of the night

he had the impression to hear of distant sob

but he kept telling to himself it probably was the moan of the waves

combined with a play of his imagination

And yet, this story remained in his heart

secretly, he cherished its memory

he longed to find his poetess if she existed

and introduce her to his little piece of rock

lost in the middle of the largest sea of the world

Many seasons passed, and nothing happened

the poet continued to hear the sobs he attributed to the sea

the clouds continued to stroll in the sky

without dropping a single drop of rain over his head

everything continued to be of different shades of grey

the sea, the island, the heaven, and his mood too

Until one day the earth quaked

and the poet found a hole in the middle of the island

It was very strange to see a change

in this timeless landscape

and for long he only contemplated the hole

without daring to do anything with it

Then he resolved himself to explore it

he went down into it with the idea to throw in rubble

and close it again, otherwise the ground would catch cold

but in there he discovered he could not close it at all

it was too large, too wide, and it stretched on and on

And so, the poet started walking along the gallery

It was the first time something unexpected

something new, happened in his life

The first time he discovered a new, hidden place of his island

And so he walked and walked in the carved rock

His heart became more and more anguished

as he felt he had walked for so long

he was not anymore under his island

He walked without knowing where he was going

for days, and weeks, and months

until he found another hole and started climbing up

and found himself in the distant world he had always dreamt of

he had read about in books, but never visited

It was very strange to be there

not to speak the language of people

to be looked at as a weird thing

he walked barefoot, without knowing where he was going

until he arrived in front of the door of a building

Without knowing why, his hand had the impulse

to press on a little button of steel

close to something written he could not decipher

It did not look like the drawn characters of the books he read

the writing script of this part of the world was much dryer

And so he pressed the little button, and nothing happened

He waited.

The morning crept into the afternoon, flowed into the evening

And still nothing happened

The poet waited.

He could not move from there, his legs refused to follow his orders

And so he remained.

Until a person appeared in the distance.

It was her.

Somehow he knew, he felt, it was her he was waiting for.

She walked toward the door of the building

Toward him

Lit by the glowing ray of the setting sun

Her hair were the colour of a field of wheat at sunset

And her eyes were blazing dark

He looked at her, into her eyes, into her soul.

He did not know her

Did not speak her language

Was a complete stranger.

And yet he knew her, he knew her deeper

than anyone else knew her

And as she came closer

he saw a familiar recognition in her eyes

She seemed to be walking toward the door

And suddenly, she stopped.

She looked at him.

She walked again.

She stopped again

Looked at him again.

She made a motion to take her keys out from her pocket.

But stopped her motion midway, froze.

Looked at him again.

Resumed her motion. Her hand touched her pocket.

Stopped again.

Looked at him.

The poet didn’t do any motion

didn’t utter any word

He simply looked deep into her

All his fears, all his apprehensions

had abandoned him

He knew he was in the perfect place

at the perfect time

He knew he was home

He knew who he was, and who she was

She looked at him again

With interrogation

With sadness

With anger

With harshness

With melancholy

With longing

With tenderness

With love

The poet could read, hear

all these silent emotions

that were singing, shouting, crying and laughing

in his ears

And for the first time, the princess saw him move.

He took a step that brought him closer.

Another step.

The princess was still now.

She didn’t try to look for her keys anymore.

Didn’t try to gaze anywhere else than in the poet’s eyes.

And deep within his soul the poet heard

the same cry, the same sob, he had heard every night

since he had sung to the wind and to the ocean

since he had sent the whisper of his heart to her ears.

And there on her face

her eyes brimmed with tear.

The poet took another step closer.

Their breaths could now brush one another’s face

And he saw the first moontear flowing over her face

that stirred his heard deeper than it ever had

and he started weeping too

The princess and the poet continued to look into one another’s eyes

that were now blurred by an outflow of sadness and grief

and the poet felt all the other emotions too

transformed in tears

and were finally expressed out of their heart

He circled his arms around the princess shoulders

and after the slightest moment of hesitation and shyness

she did the same

and they hugged and they embraced

wetting one another’s cheeks with their tears

and continuing to look into one another’s eyes

with silent marvel

I have found you at last, said the prince in the language of his heart

I have found you at last, repeated the princess in the same language

I have a place to show you, said the prince

caressing the highest parts of the princess’ cheeks

until he made her smile the truest smile he had ever seen

I too have a place to show you, repeated the princess

with the deepest earnestness in her eyes the prince had ever dreamt of

every word coming out her mouth was true, revealed a depth, a nobility

and that brought back tears to his eyes

Are those tears of joy? the princess said, I had never seen any before

And in her eyes the prince sees the reflection of his own tears

and he hugs her even closer

Will you become queen of my island

it is a modest piece of rock, but it has nurtured me and I am fond of it

he asks her expectantly, trustingly

Will you be king of my realm

it is a place of fantasy that does not exist, except in the words my heart sings to yours

You are the poetess I had been looking for all my life

You are the poet I could find nowhere and who haunted all my nights

I cried for you to come and bring my suffering to an end

I heard your lamentations every night and my heart cried for you

They look into one another’s eyes

and they start laughing the truest laugh they have ever laughed

their lips come closer, and they close their eyes, and they kiss.

The night embraces them.