i do not own the memory of your lips-
for your lips belong to the forest
and the sound of the rain…
We can get very close to belonging to one another – but never can one person completely belong to another.
This is what Geri Geda’s poem, Sena, reminded me of. Lovers may become as close as two people can be, and that is beautiful. Still, if you are like the billions of other people in our world, you cannot read your beloved’s mind and cannot see into the corners of their heart.
Epics, tragedies, and triumphs have resulted from this, and Geri Geda uses imagery from the forest and the sea to give a haunting impression of the divide.
When reading Sena I envisioned a dance between two people who never quite touch, one of the forest and one of the sea, as out of a myth or parable. There are hints of a bygone age and of adventure (knights, ships, castles, dragons). If this is indeed about a man and a woman I wonder in what way the forest and the sea of their world keep them apart.
Something in their natures is enough to separate the two, even though I have the impression that their lips once touched and perhaps loved. In looking up at the same moon they are united and apart.
For we of this swiftly-turning Earth, there will always be something that prevents us from wholly understanding or possessing another. But then, there is a freedom in not being possessed. This is echoed in the final verse of Sena – I hope that you will enjoy the poem as much as I did.
we may kiss the same moon each night
but the moon remembers:
your lips belong to the forest.
my lips belong to the sea.