Reading 44 - The God of Innocence and Playful Youth
The God of Innocence and Playful Youth
As the subdued sky turns to slowly charcoal,
And the visible campus is reduced,
To flickering knots of paraffin light,
I carry my empty water container,
Down the narrow path to the bend in the river,
Where on Saturdays the school children gather,
To splash and scrub their uniform,
Their noisy shingle bar, deserted now and dimmed.
Serenaded by the darting reflection of early-evening stars,
And the muffled bark of distant voices,
I strip off my shirt,
And wade slowly into the deepwater pool,
Making barely a splash,
In stillness dense and cool.
But tonight I’m with Lafcadio,
Who wants to play and make high spirited fun,
Clowning on the river bank,
Trying to water-walk,
Making me laugh and jump about,
Showing off his swimming-strength and power.
And bold as Icarus -
As a feasting pacific moon, gibbous brown,
Hangs over the dark feathered palms, faintly scented,
He sits on the riverbed, so
That only his head and shoulders show,
Above the cool running water,
And as I look at him sitting there,
A comic in an absurd pose,
With tiny water drops beautifully round,
Translucent against his wiry black hair,
And flashes of silver light, reflecting
The capricious dark water, running wild
Over his warm-brown shoulders,
He grins at me, testing
My reaction to his foolishness.
And myself; so intensely alive
In the rare poignant poise of the moment,
That the grace of the brown-skinned boy on silver-water,
Is etched indelible and forever,
Across the bare white ribs of my soul;
And even the Great Universal Beast,
Like some crusty enfeebled pope,
Looked on in amazement and saw,
The most mischievous of the ancient gods,
The god of innocence and playful youth,
As he leapt laughing from the running water.
