Cross-Currents
Memory has its currents, like a river’s flow.
You can float upon it gently, watching sparks of light,
Glints of summers past. He loved the sun. His face would glow,
His body like a sword in battle, swiftly cut the water, straight and bright.
Float upon the river gently, watch the sparks of light.
The day I taught him how to swim, he was unsure at first; but soon
his body moved just like his sword, cutting through the water keen and bright.
“Breathe!” I laughed, but I remembered when he almost drowned one afternoon.
The day I taught him how to swim, he cursed his clumsiness, and soon
Lost patience, used to watching over me, to teaching me instead of being taught.
“Just breathe,” I said, reminding him of when he almost drowned one afternoon.
“You could have died, and I can’t bear to lose you.” I shivered at the thought.
Though used to watching over me, to teaching me instead of being taught,
My lessons served him well. Osgiliath. Just four of all our company had reached the shore.
“You could have died. I cannot bear to lose you.” Shaking with the thought,
I held him close. Together on the bank, we watched the citadel of stars devoured by war.
My lessons served him well. From doomed Osgiliath, so few had reached the shore.
The river ran as black as blood. My brother’s eyes were stained with shadows and with shame.
I held him close as we stood on the bank and watched the citadel of stars devoured by war.
I felt his fear, his strength coiled on itself without an enemy that he could name.
The river was as black as blood. My eyes were misted o’er with shadows and with shame,
For I had failed him. Then the boat came near. I strained to see the burden that it bore.
I felt an echo of his fear in me, coiled on itself without an enemy that I could name.
Memory has its currents, and at times the waters cast you on an unexpected shore.
Had I failed him? The boat came near, and even now I longed to ease the burdens that he bore.
Then I saw his body on a flood of light, his face so beautiful the sight of it lodged in my heart,
And never left it since, though memory’s waters cast me on some unexpected shores.
He was at peace. The waters bore him on from me, but from that day we never were apart.
His body lay upon a flood of light, his face so beautiful the sight of it lodged in my heart.
The water formed a road between us. Past and future, life and death, but stations on the way; the ends
I cannot see. The waters bore him on, and yet I know that from that day we’ve never been apart.
So on the day each year I’ve sent my messengers upon the road to him with news of home, of friends.
The water is the road between us. Past and future, life and death, but stations on the way; our ends
unseen. Today in Anduin I held my newborn son, some drops of river’s blessing on his forehead laid.
Today, the messenger bears special news along the road to you: our line secure, the joy of friends
Who stood with me that now another of your name has joined us on the river-road, my Blade.
Today in Anduin I held my newborn son and drops of river’s blessing on his forehead laid,
And now I stand upon the tower alone at dusk, still looking at the river far below.
Another of your name has joined us on the road, my Blade, my Blade.
Memory has its currents, like a river’s flow.
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Author's notes: This was written as a Solstice gift for fileg and was written ‘inside’ her wondrous Anduin story cycle, the main pieces of which (for purposes of this poem) can be found here: Breathe. She kindly gave me permission to make this public.
The poem is an attempt at a form called a pantoum. Discussion of the form for those interested in weird poetry is here.