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18 Feb 19 Song 2: Dis-membered continued

If you read the first segment of this second Song posted on 11 February, you may have noticed the cliffhanger ending. In today’s continuation of the second song that “cliffhanger,” is resolved, and we engage the subsequent freefall that occurs after the word, “Then . . .” Read today’s second segment of “Dis-remembered” to see what’s happening. Imagine yourself in this situation.



One second I am breathing, looking down
The next tick I am sliding, losing breath
dark water rushes - pulls me down into
deeper water streaming – choking - no-breath
turning - grasping – drowning - nothing holding
slow motion blurred shapes under darker gold
and then the tree reaches out and grabs me
pulling me down                                  deeper into water
tangled in branches too deep for him to reach
Deep in the water              Deep in the darkness
Alive                Not breathing                  I can see the stars
Tree opens its mouth and whispers my name
I relax and listen, floating again
as tree tells about the long run to sea
the winds and the storms                 the long sail to be

My black hull cuts deep in the broad-backed sea
Moonlight shimmers, scatters white-crested waves
my body wave-washed and wind at my back,
my breath all exhaled sailing on in black
borderless places -- the star lands of home
forgetting the tether,smallness, and stones
re-membering great winds and great wild unknown
The Darkness                  The Sounding                  long downwind run

Asudden gasping I’m ripped pulled and dragged
out of the sea’s love           and wriggling in air
choking breath spasms and arching toward sky
thrown down yet again              dark, small, but alive
He gathers me up, lays me down, blows air
into me choking on water and air
I thrash and cry as          clear sound fades away
lying broken with him  with him, not of him
pulling away from his warm shore, I lie
rooted, immobile – stone stopped by his hands
gone the fair sea winds –   I don’t understand 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                        I stand outside the white house where I’m fed
                                    standing in yellow grass flat to the sky
                                    sparks in my wet hair from storm just passed by
                        Now raindrops stop and thunder rolls away
                        Leaves slip droplets disturbing brown puddles
                                    mirror my rippling face and the white clouds
                        Like a small lake, the puddles have shores and
water to sail my twig-wood boat while I
                                    make myself small on its long narrow deck 
                        A leaf drops alongside my small brown ship
                                    carrying a blue dragonfly with clear 
rainbow wings sailing just the same as me

                        Side by side we travel, blue dragon and me
                        Sweet air and wide water under our wings 
I can see a map of a distant place
                                    great magic across the blue dragon’s sea
                        This indigo body holds some secrets
If I touch, the wings will carry me there
                        I reach out, caress him ever so light
                        Vibration of wings and quickly takes flight

                        So, I leave the puddle, twig boat aground
                        I look up and see blue dragon flying
                                    into purple sundown skies where I’m not
                        But later at night in dreams I will soar
                                    far away from this grounded place where tongues
                                    of winged dragons unspoken, not known
                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A crow is cawing shrilly overhead 
                                    saying, “Come! Hurry up and follow me!”
                        Her black and rainbow wings flash so fast that
soon she has flown far ahead – when I run 
fast behind and see her settle onto
                                    an apple tree branch and fluff her feathers
                                    She pities poor me, wingless, on the ground.
                        Her black wings bring her where she wants to go
                        So much better than standing here below
                        I walk round the tree thinking how to rise
                                    but the branches are high and no matter 
how I jump and try, the coarse tree bark scrapes 
my tender skin and how to be with her 
I can’t begin to think I cannot fly
                                    so, I slump down on the grass, and she blinks.
                        As I sit still and watch her, I open
and see I am with her, though my body 
can’t be - I’m flying now so easily
                                    Inside my crow’s dark skin, I feel dragon’s 
blue wings spread out dazzling, gossamer thin

Background
This segment contains several early adventures, serious and light, that depend, to a great degree, on imagination. For the most part, it is meant to be light and innocent, with one exception. The role of imagination provides one thread in the narrative arc of the poem, so please don’t take everything at face value. Rather, play with the unusual, and let incidents roll over you in both directions: real and illusory. Yet, who’s to say which is which. Children play with this enigma regularly. Hopefully, if you keep reading this work, you will allow yourself the chance to enlarge and/or revisit this place of paradox.

The water and sailing themes also return in this second song. It’s possible that more revelations will arise by gathering these water images from songs 1 and 2. It is said that all life originated in water. Consider the ramifications this fact may have in this story, as the water images proceed through the narrative.


Exploration 1: What is happening in the last five lines? Is there an alternate reality operative? Is it real?

Exploration 2: This segment addressed the childlike freedom and subsequent exploration of the main character. Is this curiosity normal?

Exploration 3: Note the italics in the first part of this segment. Why are they there and what is happening?

NEXT: Third and final part of Song Two, Dis-membered . . .





Comments

  1. Thanks for the background. It really helps me better understand this epic poem. I am enjoying reading it from week to week. I am looking forward to the next one to continue on with this adventure!

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    1. Thanks for being my cheering section, Anonymous! FYI, a minimum of 2 segments will be published each month, so as not to put out too much of a good thing. In between there will be "guest" poets like Mary Oliver, and I'm keeping my hand in much shorter new poems that I'm working on. So many poems to write; so little time (she says as she stares at 70.) JP Savage

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