Tonight / Today
TONIGHT / TODAY
Tonight
the Silver Cat came leaping up
onto the old man’s bed in the Eastern bedroom,
in the Wolf Hour, 4 a.m. sharp,
stepping up the duvet all the way
to my face, bared in the dark,
and brushed his head against my cheek,
purring like a nightjar,
and began a three-minute trampling
across my chest –
a physiotherapy beyond compare,
rocking like the ocean of the star-realm
over the roofs of men and the murmur of forests,
until he withdrew to the foot of the bed,
coiled himself out of his suppleness
and fell asleep with an after-night sigh in the world
Today Pandit Pran Nath came to me
in Raga Darbari,
where I lay outstretched on the yoga mat
in the writing room on the second floor
and remembered those close who had fallen;
Folke Rabe, elegant and italic of mind,
his many compositions in tow,
and Bengt Emil Johnson,
with a greeting in one of his late books of poems,
and Stockhausen, the Karlheinz boy,
who rejoiced in a text on a late composition:
Cosmic Pulses,
and asked me, in his beautiful hand, to explain to the world
that there is something new to discover
There are moments
when the universe slowly turns in attentive reverence,
with eons, kalpas and galaxy clusters gathering,
their noses lifted in the blissful scent of cowslips
and lily of the valley,
the breathing of the firmament light as a nocturnal breeze
over Anna’s water-lily pond in Niemisel
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Written on 2026-03-25 at 16:04
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