A Bowl of Warm Air
Someone is falling towards you
as an apple falls from a branch,
moving slowly, imperceptibly as if
into a new political epoch,
or excitedly like a dog towards a bone.
He is holding in both hands
everything he knows he has—
a bowl of warm air.
He has sighted you from afar
as if you were a dramatic crooked tree
on the horizon and he has seen you close up
like the underside of a mushroom.
but he cannot open you like a newspaper
or put you down like a newspaper.
And you are satisfied that he is veering towards you
and that he is adjusting his speed
and that the sun and the wind and rain are in front of him
and the sun and the wind and rain are behind him.
–Moniza Alvi
Moniza Alvi was born in Lahore, Pakistan but moved to England when she was a small child. In 2002 she received a Cholmondeley Award for her poetry. This is another poet I found during my visit to England last month.
What a lush image: “He is holding in both hands/everything he knows he has—/a bowl of warm air”….
“….he has seen you close up
like the underside of a mushroom.
but he cannot open you like a newspaper
or put you down like a newspaper.”
WOW….I have reread those lines about 20 times today. D – Thanks for this, it fit my day perfectly!
– P
P my poetry-loving buddy, so glad you connected with that great image. I adore this poem and am trying to find out more about Alvi’s work.
beautiful portrait and poem
I know so little about her work, but I’ll post more of her poems as I find them. Thank you for your comment.
[…] open mic reader hit the stage. But first, our host, Carol Graser, began with a poem titled “A Bowl of Warm Air” by Moniza Alvi (if I got that […]