Walking With Poetry Part 2

This situation was not what she needed in her life. Tears of total frustration and helplessness welled up in her eyes.

Then a very strange thing happened. As I kept staring at her, I had the feeling that she had called on the last of her inner reserves and as a result a look of calmness spresd over her.  Ignoring me completely, she turned to look at the forest and as she did so a wonderful calmness seemed to envelope her.

When she eventually turned to look at me, she was somehow different. Even her voice was different. It was more calm. More self assured.

"So, if you're a poetry teacher, as you say, then you should surely be able to recite a poem to me right now. Not just any poem. No no. A poem that will tell me what all poetry is about."
I studied her through my squinted eyes. It dawned on me that she had just asked a most astute question.
"Do you mean that you want me to reveal to you the holy grail of all poems?"
"Yes...that's just about it. Come on Mr. Teacher."
Acting on an impulse I walked over to her and went down on one knee. As I looked up into her eyes, I saw for the first time how dark brown they were. I had to, however, close my own eyes for a moment as I tried to visualiise Sir Laurence Olivier in such a situation. I cleared my throat a little theatrically.

"How can you write
When you haven't lived?
How can you live
If you haven't seen a dancing trout?

How can you dance
If you haven't seen a deer at play?
How can you sing
If you haven't seen the place where music was born?"

Her eyes had grown larger. It was as if she was begiining to see me for the first time.
"Thay was good, Dinel, but please don't be a fool now. Don't kneel in front of me. Go and sit on that rock over there."
Her words were a great felief to me. I don't think that I could've kept my knee pressing onto  those sharp rocks for much longer.
"Go on, Dinel, Finish your poem. You have my interest."
With a polite nod I acknowledged her gentle command.

"These hands of mine can write
Because I've held a wriggling fish.
My eyes can see
Because they've watched eagles mate.
My ears can hear
Because they've listened to a tiger purr."

"Aha. You're saying that I can't write poetry because I haven't held a wriggling fish in my hands? When will I ever do that, you silly man?"

I rose quickly to my feet and held out my hands to her in a gesture of appeal.
"Inmy schol tu will learn thay, Alisha. Come with me and let's walk through that wood. OK, it's a 25 km walk but we'll get to your college by tomorrow afternoon. The train will only get there by late tomorrow night. It really takes a long time to get to its destiantion. It's all those winding curves that makes the train slow and then there's that long wait for the connection."
"What? You want me to walk through that jungle with you. For 25 km? Just you and me and a thousand wild animals?"

"Don't you see that if you wait for the next train, you'll be too late for the registration."

"That's true but I don't want to be eaten by wild creatures."
"No no. It's not a jungle filled with wild beasts. It's a poetry school."

For the first time I heard her laughter. It was a happy sound. In fact, the whole countryside seemed to light up.
She looked at me with a look as resolute as if she was a pioneer ready to walk into the unknown. She nodded her head sagely.
"Then let's go. Lead the way Mr Teacher...but first one thing."

I turned to look at her. "And what's that?"

"I  know that you've a knife in your back pack. You've got to give it to me." Surprised I asked her why.

"Look, I'm going into a jungle with a total stranger.  A very strange total stranger. I think that a nice girl like me needs to have a knife under those circumstances."

I thought for a while and then calmly handed her my hunters knife, with a little bow and a flourish, and then trurned around and began walking. I went ahead and maintained quite a fast pace but I could hear that she was able to stay close behind me.

Now this jungle was not a dense forest filled with thorny bushes and piles of deadwood. There were many open spaces where bright sun rays lit up the patches of lush green grass.
Every now and then I would turn to her with a finger on my lips signalling a need for silence. I would then point to a spot where I had seen or heard birds. I told her that birds fed on  many things from worms and insects to nectar, fruit or seeds.
I showed her nests built in drooping branches, in hollows in trees or in nests in waterside shrubs or reeds.
Once I softly said "shhh. There's a Fiscal Shrike. Do you know that it creates a larder? It impales insects on long thorns. Amazing isn't it?"

That certain inevitable moment eventually arrived when she "had to go somewhere."           I casually waved towards a bush next to a large tree. She was immediately all caution.
"I'll tell you what. You go there first, won't you. Why don't you shoo away all the snakes and furry creatures. GO. I can't wait for ever."

Later, at about 3 in the afternoon, having becaome aware of her muttering, I turned to look at her. I could see that she was very upset.
I raised my eyebrows and asked "and so?"
"Look I'm hungry. I need a break. I'm thirsty. So what are you going to do about it?"
"Relax Alisha. There's a log. Make yourself comfortable. I'll fix you something."
I gave her an energy bar and then boiled some water on a small back packer's stove.
I made some tea and gave her a large mug full.

After that breaK, after we had walked about 15 km that day, as the sun began to dip and the shadows lengthened, I held up my hand and called a halt. This action seemed to annoy her.
"Why are you stopping?"
"Alisha, this is where we have to stop. Unless you want to walk on in total darkness?"
"Here. You and me? "
"Yes. And the stars and the creatures of the night."
As I said that she began to look around nervously. "What do you mean?"
"Oh Alisha. Don't worry your pretty little head. I've a fold-up tent here in my pack. You can use it. I don't mind. I've slept in the open often enough."
"OK. Then we stay here. But I promise you this. If you come near me, I'll kill you."
I kind of liked that fire in her eyes. They looked like laser beams.
"OK Alisha, you may kill me. Just be careful with that knife though. It's kind of sharp."
As she looked at me I began to feel sorry for her. I could sense her confusion. This was all so new. I decided to come to her rescue.
"Hey. Don't stand around like that. Go and collect some firewood. Get a whole armful, will you? In the meantime I'll pitch your tent. OK?"

As the fire began to blaze, she looked at me. It was a very forlorn look.
"So what do we eat? Big shot. Where's our food?"
I took out a sealed tin and opened the lid. I held it towards her. "Here. Take a look."
She peered inside and then pulled up her nose as she drew back her head.
"Hell. What's that? Dried sticks and shrivelled up roots? Is this another one of your jokes?"
I didn't speak. I soaked the dehydrated vegetables in a plate of water and slowly, as if by magic, the shrivelled objects began to expand into the full shapes of carrots, beans and several other vegetables.
I winked at her.
"Alisha. This is part of the Poetry School. Always remember the magic of this moment."

After dinner, we spoke for a while and then I bid her goodnight. When she looked a little nervous, I gave her a torch that I always kept in my pack. She looked grateful but a trace of the nervousness remained.

I fell asleep immediately. It's the oxygen that you get in nature, you know. It's also te complete absence of diesel fumes. I was deep in the arms of morpheus when I felt someone shaking my shoulder rather violently.
I saw that it was Alisha and I also saw the terror in her eyes.
"Wake up. Wake up, There are animals all around here. Come. Get up. Do something."
"Why should I do anything, Alisha. I'm not afraid of animals."
"Never mind you. I am. Do something."
"OK I'll do anything. Just tell me what."
She was quiet for a very long time. So long that I thought that she had fallen asleep.
"What's up. Alisha?"
At last she spoke. "I want you to come and lie in the tent."
"In the tent with you? With you and that knife?'
"Yes. I'll trust you this once. I'm terrified. I'm in a state of panic. Can't you see that?"

As I lay next to her and as I felt that she was not ready to sleep yet, I turned on my back and called her name.
"Alisha. I know that you can't sleep. Now, as this is a Poetry School, I'll recite some poems to you. Poems that you will remember one day when you are a famous poet."
She whispered almost inaudibly.
"Oh I see. You mean jungle poems. The holy grail of all poetry?"