From the porch

Peter Skrzynecki was four years old when he boarded the General R.M Blatchford at Naples in 1949. He was not alone. His mother and adopting father, as well as a host of European compatriots in exile 'from the sorrow/ Of northern wars', were there with him negotiating the silence and vastness of the sea for the possibility of a better life in some far-off land over the 'Equator'" a land where dreams are fashioned out of water, dust and coloured birds. 'Crossing the Red Sea'" a poem that symbolically recounts this journey and that appears in one of Skrzynecki's early collections" situates the poet's experiences in a language of exile and displacement. The young speaker recalls a shoreline and pine trees, and the '[p]eaks of mountains and green rivers' that are left behind; he recalls men bartering trust for silence and the 'gestures/ Of darkness and starlight' that 'kept our minds/ Away from the finalities/ Of surrender.' But the sea is kind. As uncertain as the future may seem, the child does not appear to leave his birthplace with the same heavy heart as the men. Maybe it's because he has not grown attached to that place, or, and I think this is more plausible, the voyage out for this four-year-old is an adventure. I think that this too is the reason Skrzynecki describes the journey through the concept of rebirth. The sea's waves, and the sea's breath recall a primordial presence, and convey the child's ability to be in the present and in the past all at once" what we might call the now that gives birth to poetic insight. If the men barter trust for silence, Skrzynecki leans in, as poet (first), as child (second), and barters that very silence for the possibility of telling his story" a story that will span the length of his life.