The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.
Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Friday, 11 July 2014
'the meeting' (sheena odle)
It's not from the exercise I offered earlier in the week, but originally came, some time ago, inspired by the Yeats poem I mentioned in yesterday's post ('Before the World Was Made').
I love this poem – the truths in it makes the hairs on my neck stand up – so asked Sheena's permission to reprint it here.
as I walked under the midnight tree
when moon-drenched grass lapped the forest's pitch
I met a woman who looked like me
and I asked her are you saint or bitch?
it depends she said on the time of Time
the one inside is always here
men may change my name my crime
but they cannot change the thing they fear
I looked in her eyes and saw the years
years since the world and those before
saw the tricks and saw the tears
and a life that wills its own fierce law
one turned away to the house above
to the tender man and the tended hearth
one to the woods where an older love
deepened the shadows on the path
© Sheena Odle
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