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pjtalty
Member

since 2002-07-17

Posts 111
W.A., Australia

0 posted 2002-07-20 12:19 PM

DEDICATION:
I often dream of returning to Italy where I lived and worked as a teacher during 1981-83. One of my most persistent dreams is that in which I return to a fascinating area -formerly an ancient lake now drained to be replaced by a large group of vegetable gardens. It's called *La Conca da Fucino*.
The following poem is dedicated to the citizens of Avezzano, the peasant farmers of Fucino and the personnel of Italy's giant satellite communication station, Telespazio.

Last night,
a delicate, indelible dream
filled with images:
an ancient lake
surrounded by futile endeavours
to drain it: the magnification of
an emperor’s vain vision.

The images move through centuries
gradually changing the face
of fascinating Fucino and its people:
guided in part
by a latter-day prince
who avers he will drain
the lake of Fucino or it will drain him.

Cavalcades
of dancing decades
persistent, permutable
take me through Fucino again:
the one I learnt to love
for a precious past;
elegant beauty and ambience;
power to engrave unforgettable images
on eager tablets of memory.

See those threads of track
weaving patterns of farms intersected
by glistening canals
that fan to the Appenines
like tableaus on a tapestry.

On this fabled ground
(lake now drained)
toil-stained men in ruffled garb
and plump, aproned figurines
in bending head-scarves
work the soil of fabulous Fucino
where Claudius, to signal love
for veiled,unbending Aggripina,
once staged naval battles.

Hear the silver sounds
of trout splashing
in irrigation canals,
the Appenines their guardians.

And now
a distant sighting:
ascension after ascension
of great white antennae
through transient traces
of early morning mist.

How they thrust upwards
like crops of giant ears
waiting for whispered tidings
from the prying prodigies circling,
ever circling above.

The people of the soil
merely pay attention
to their own affairs;
broadcast seeds,
receive crops
never seeming to heed
the impassive giant that shares
their ancient soil.

While all across the other parts
of microscopic Earth
its tenants scamper like ants
from season to fleeting season,
but cannot,cannot escape
the eyes and ears of Fucino.

A waking
a trembling,
a longing
to take in its magic again;
heart-aches yearn yet
resonate in rhythm
with spirit-rocking joy
for wishes fulfilled through
liberating portals of dreaming.

(c)2002 Patrick Talty

Patrick Talty

skyshine

Member Elite

since 2002-02-07

Posts 3058
Beneath the northern stars

1 posted 2002-07-20 12:33 PM

This was really beautiful. I enjoyed it a lot. Your words made me see how beautiful this place must be, although I have never been there.

~sky

You look inside my wild mind
never knowing what you'll find
still I want you all the time
yeah I do
'cause you get me
~Michelle Branch

Mistletoe Angel

Member Empyrean

since 2000-12-17

Posts 32816
Portland, Oregon

2 posted 2002-07-20 02:21 PM

(smiles) Awwwwwwwwww, this is soooooo beautiful, it is a shame they had to drain it, for I would prefer it just the way it was so it can stand as a historical place where people can always behold the magic of yesterday! (sigh) This is excellent, sweet friend, I love it, we all love you so much! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Patrick, thank you for sharing!

May love and light always shine upon you!

Love,
Noah Eaton

"Underneath your clothes there's an endless story..."

Shakira

Martie

Moderator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-09-21

Posts 28049
California

3 posted 2002-07-20 07:21 PM

Patrick

It is easy to see the love you feel for this place, by your words. I hope you have photos from your time there...some memories can be so sweet, yet I felt yearning too, to go back. I wonder if it would be very different from your memory? Enjoyed this!

the_loner_23
Member Ascendant

since 2002-06-08

Posts 5479
Jacksonville, Florida, USA

4 posted 2002-07-20 07:22 PM

Beautiful

Cold hands means a warm heart

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