John Fitzgerald and Hélène Cardona - Where Hélène's poem, Breeze Rider, responds to and calls back to John's poem, Twenty-five.
The word is the mind, and vice versa.
Each proclaims the other’s existence.
The wind is blowing, we know that.
Can I possess the wind the way I do the mind?
The mind blows its own horn.
It sees things whether or not they are there.
Now picture this: The wind has told me not to moan.
The receptacle of words gave me these to speak –
I have no idea of its power.
Every force of nature has a purpose.
I maintain the planet’s balance.
When people feel I’m here
Traveling through wind
one reaches places others can’t,
a matter of quality.
The goal is to let the mind flow
and not stagnate,
let it rumble like a river.
If one tries to keep a little piece -
trophy, illusion -
the whole is lost.
The mind flows through like wind.
Ride the breeze, lift into it,
a surprise each time.
Ride the wind made from sun
heating more reflective places.
John FitzGerald, from The Mind (Salmon Poetry, 2011)
Copyright © Hélène Cardona 2011
First published on the Saint Julian Press, Guest Author pages in January 2012.
From Dreaming My Animal Selves (Salmon Poetry, 2013)
In depth biographies on Hélène Cardona and John Fitzgerald are on this page.