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17 December 2018 – Old Skin – First Light

Imagine the skin of the first human. Then think about our modern skin. What is the difference? Both beings are human/humanoid. Do each feel differently, in that experiences vary? Are there similarities. Then there is “light.” For good reasons, throughout our species’ history, the sun has been worshipped, welcomes, and worried about. In recent weeks (seems like months), our little corner of the world has experienced day after day of overcast skies. We yearn for light, and when it comes, we feel better, softer, more agile and resilient. The human race is relatively old; the sun ancient beyond comprehension. When the skin of a being meets the sun for the first time, something magical takes place. Please read, open-hearted, and enjoy.

Old Skin – First Light

                        A mercy of storms skids east river’s course
                        Snow dreams drift taller than crooked fences
                                    while meadows grow back over everything
                        Under surfacing sun, milky beauty lies prone 
                                    naked except two silver rings 
                                    her ancient body – head, heart, and limbs
                                    where ruddy blood endures within
                                    wrapped tight and rich in primal skin
                                                never to be so ripe again

                        
The after-truth unfurls stunning secrets
                        Time spirals up in smoke and flame
                                    ancient language lost, then unearthed blood-stained

                        Wings whisper branches singing her bones alive 
                        again sparked from existence lead in gloom
                                    the lock seals the great closed circle
                                    last winter’s story finished and 
sheltered in a mossy tomb
                        Yearling wolf rolls in deepening wood



                                                Now
                        woman             and                   wolf
            just arising                                                        just this
                                                vastness
                                    pure senses’ presence
                        gripped gently by north wind’s teeth
                                                Now
                        wolf                 and                   woman
            just arriving                                                      only this
            enter pleasure                                                   enter pain
                                                all are one
                                                all the same
                                    riddle out the nascent names



                        An ancient sutra from deep time unfreezes 
                                    resolutions, as all who see fall to knees
                                    then bare feet on pilgrimage out that is the pathway in
                                    trod on fresh auburn soil, uprooting black stones
                                                tectonic rumbles – not one churns alone


                        Frogs chant under cattails – wild roses shimmer 
                        a finch flutters above a red deer
                                    a yellow flash – then both disappear
                        Woman shivers under sultry sun
                                    stars fall to warm her – all doing done
                                    the burnished unexpected surges up
                                    conjured from blooming incense, a prayer
a salute, a golden cup, a kinetic flame, a knee, all doubt erased


                                                First breath joining
                                                koans unwinding
                                                colliding firestorms’ mortal sin
                                                deep time ambers now– begin
                                                                                                begin
                                                                                                            begin



Background:
One day, a long time ago, I considered the interconnected nature of all life, including nonsentient beings that some peoples believe also carry a life force. As I looked deeper, somehow, I got in touch with the interpenetrating, unobstructed process that fires everything. One flower. A river passing. A leaf falling. The experience was more profound than sentimental nor was it filled with false self-importance. I have attempted to capture some of that experience through images – and there they are again – metaphors.

Exploration #1: Is the juxtaposition of the woman and the wolf justifiable or is it just a poetic trick of unusual image?

Exploration #2: The center of the poem is chaotic in opposition to the stanzas above and below. Can you interpret why the poet used the chaotic form in the middle?

Exploration #3: “Begin.” Begin what?

Your Monday Poet, Jack Pine Savage







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