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This is what water said about the matter: If you want to hear what the other candidates had to say, go to holopoet and drop me a note - perhaps I can coax some of the other elements to speak. (sorry about the little 'flyspecs' - the input form at this site is not very 'poetry-friendly'.)

.

.

Ocean Council

.

Listen a moment, water-born friends

Sons and daughters of the ocean spray

Hear fairly what i've come to say,

And thus petition on behalf of strangers,

From many distant quarters,

Matters which this council must now weigh.

.

.

Which of you has not so suffered:

Felt the chill of air's disturbance?

Been thrice scalded in fiery steam?

Or choked on sediments of earth,

Till once great visions dim

Upon a tide of clouded dream?

.

.

Who among us claims no elemental hand

Profaned the sacred texts of the Sea

And, by ignorance or cruel design,

Abruptly tore from us our reveries

And plunged us into dissonance?

.

.

.......... Aye, we know the case dear brother,

..........As one often pressed before;

..........And, well you know, concluded

..........It is almost time for war.

.

.

I'm not here to speak of that;

The litany of 'plaints and costs,

Nor eulogize the ones in prison,

Driven mad or counted lost

From the pride and grace of Ocean's

.....harmony.

.

.

I've thought of this for many years;

Saw much, till now, I did not understand;

Counted many broken hearts, on either side

- Saw as many drown'd as saved -

And above the din of savage battle,

Heard those who raved and those who cried.

.

.

Who can deny, among the casualties:

Friends and lovers we've left upon the shore?

Those we've abandoned to the world,

While we retreated to our quiet pools

Convinced that we could do no more;

And did no more?

.

.

..........Aye, we don't deny. We don't deny

..........or make excuses. As you know,

..........That's not our way to reckon

..........our abuses.

.

.

I lay no blame for what has passed,

Nor cant the death upon the shore.

Still, we know, beneath the oceans veil,

Within the buried History of Tears,

How Gaia dreamed in blood and stone as well,

And, with each breath, apportioned four.

.

.

How hot desire roused the sleeping Dream,

From whose strange songs fair Earth was made,

Then gently wrapped in swaddling Air,

Was taken to her Mother's breast

Where fell mixed tears of gratitude and pain.

.

.

Are we not reminded upon every tide:

What could be more earthly

.....than the earthly sea?

Or bright with power than a breaking wave

Filled with Fire's sensuality?

To spread upon some distant sandy home,

Where it comes to rest as airy foam?

.

i

..........We know that each alone would fall,

..........Were it not imbued with the character

.....of all.

.

.

..........But, where others dominate and ruin,

...........Even those in sympathy would wish

........... to leave that home.

.

.

..........We are driven away by the pain.

..........We are frightened by the destruction.

..........Our visions be broken and abandoned

..........Amidst the fury of Discord's obsessed

..........constructions.

.

.

Yes, perhaps that's true. Yet deem,

That our greatest visions fall unheard

As much from our neglectful word:

That Poetry's become a pale shadow,

And Dance is just preserved;

Though industry of word is known,

Rare is the History or Dream,

Rarer yet does something grow.

.

.

So we must hold to the channel

Where our knowledge is still sought;

Yet, watch that mix of pride and power

That would, by careless thought,

Extinguish fire's lamp,

Dampen airy spirits

And batter earthen walls

Till each, in turn, would fall.

.

.

By that deed would we stand

So accused, as though accuser be;

And, while the rage increases,

Let there be no doubt;

As Air disperses into pale whisper,

And shadows grow on Fire's ashen pyre,

And Earth reveals field upon barren field,

So, too, the watery lamp goes out.

.

.

..........We have heard. And we agree

..........That this line of reason be more

..........Than a simple tributary.

.

.

..........What, however, there remains to show

.........Is by what device this stream

..........Would flow? Or, by what star

...........We might find safe to navigate

...........Through this wandering season?

.

.

Only this I keep, washed in the gravels

.....of my experience:

How I saw my own mother weep

As confusion led to near despair,

When I, myself, so let my vision seep

Beneath a conversation's want

To drown that most congenial Air.

.

.

And again, when time after time,

I would see my own beloved

Try to climb above the wash of notion

And see what might be built on earth,

Only to be swept into an ocean of idea

Or flooded so with doubt or shame

That threatened to put out the flame.

.

.

And, finally, my own stubborn view

That I could wander thus, forever

On some lonely ocean shelf,

Or, find completion in the company

Of those, who like myself,

Preferred above all else the sea.

I only add that now, combined with

Earth and Air and Fire,

I seek a difficult though surer way

.....to Dream's desire.

.

.

..........Do you not fear dilution of the dream

..........And, by that combination, be consumed?

.

.

Indeed I do. But, rather seek the truth

Of knowing that which I possess,

And that which I do not;

Thus, though I stood as part, and only part,

Could I be released from bitter isolation.

Is this task not worthy of the risk?

For what, I ask, is the alternative

But certain destruction that can offer

.....no solution?

.

.

..........That case we now consider:

..........Whether the retreat among our kind

..........Was driven by necessity,

..........Or merely the reflected resignations

..........From within the mirrored pools

.........Of our own minds.

.

.

Sons and Daughters of the sea:

Such is our way, and so it is petitioned

On behalf of those who search as we

For the restoration of this goal;

Speak to your respective councils,

That each of us may find that harmony.

And Gaia, who had birthed us all,

In blood and stone and tear and sigh,

Can thus reveal what once quickened

In the oceans of Eternity.

.

.

(c) 1996 red slider

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