Of a book I read last week, on the theme of memory,
I’ve forgotten everything, except for a brief description
of how the narrator, on returning to his Tyrolean childhood home,
was remembered by acquaintances of his early years
for his habit of always,
upon stepping outdoors, looking up
to observe the sky’s condition.
I too have often done this.
On the African coast, in harmattan season,
the sky would stay so perpetually hazed
that no amount of looking would make that pilgrim’s art
A proud, even a hostile sky,
as I remember it: so utterly unwilling to reveal itself.
For three months I could look at nothing else.
The Pilgrim Looks Up - Daniel Karasik
Read More: Daniel Karasik, Harmattan Series
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'The Pilgrim Looks Up' is a snapshot of humanity. For starters, all life is like a pilgrimage. In our consternations over memory, meanings and mankind, we look to things outside our immediate circumstances, In our bids to find some absolution, we tend to look up, 'to the sky'. However, the sky, like memory, is murky. This causes a silence that pushes us to accept our lot, even though we might dislike it. People live through the Harmattan even though they dislike it.
The poem inspires, Daniel.
Thanks for the kind words, Prince!
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