Stillness
The clarity of the water,
like a window
with another world below,
moving slowly,
other rippling waves at its periphery.
Pictures painted on its surface:
a sky untroubled by clouds,
inverted trees adding to the sense of
an unreachable dimension.
To the west, the sun is burning -
burning out for another day,
casting gold across the world
in its farewell.
The clarity of the water,
like the floor of a glass-bottomed boat.
The temptation to walk across it,
but the knowledge that I’d sink.
Standing on a wooden jetty -
a ‘portage point’.
Standing as if waiting,
as if waiting for the Ferryman,
who has today been delayed;
waiting as if it’s the only thing to do.
The clarity of the water,
like an art form understood.
Blossoms trace its journey -
spots on the smooth, clear screen.
Around it,
the Causeway to the east,
arms and fingers on the banks -
plants stretching upwards or outwards
from their roots -
and a pastoral scene before me:
motionless grazing sheep.
(Rushing water in the distance,
noisy mallards in the foreground)
The clarity of the water:
the serenity before sleep.
Nothing earthly is eternal
but for now I can keep this timeless.
The openness of the sky,
pervading my peace-seeking mind;
the stillness of Air’s aura,
if not of those who intrude it.
The clarity of the water;
the desire to step down,
to enter it,
to be enveloped in the calmness,
the motionlessness:
to be overcome by the depth.
The need to find its unknowing kin -
be held, be comforted, be changed to
a vessel of peace.
I don’t want to go,
I don’t want to leave,
but even as I am contented
by thinking and writing -
by learning Me -
I’m aware of a pocket,
the anticipated call to return;
I listen out for the bells
which will tell I’ve overstayed;
I know my other life -
the usual one -
and these are the Reality.
The clarity of the water,
and its underworld: a dream.
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Author guidance for This poem
This afternoon (Saturday 14th January 2012), I went for a walk around my hometown, which contains a park. I stood on a wooden landing (a Portage Point) for just under an hour, watching Nature while the late afternoon sun shone in the west. During that time, I saw what I think might have been a weasel - looked a bit like an otter with a long and thin body but was smaller. :) The poem's not about the weasel, by the way - I thought I'd just mention that as part of what happened in the afternoon. :)Notes:
To be read preferably after the actual poem, as they give insight into my own afterthoughts
1) The poem is vaguely real-time: I stood for about 15-20 minutes making mental analogies and deciding whether I had enough to compose a poem but lots of ideas came as I was standing there writing.
2) I think the lax grammar (missing verbs) gives the poem the sense of being a train of thought, which is very appropriate, especially since, for me, poetry is about expressing my thoughts.
3) Portage point is in inverted commas not because I don't understand what one is but because I decided to call it a wooden jetty where other people might use its proper name: 'Portage Point'. By the way, if you didn't know, it's a point at which canoeists or kayakers can get out of their boats to come on land.
4) The use of the word 'screen' in Stanza 5 is to suggest a barrier between myself and the world beneath the surface of the river.
5) In Stanza 6, 'Causeway' refers to a street in my town, which I suppose is a little bit like a high street- it's lined with houses whose ground floors include a pharmacy, a One Stop and an estate agency, though on the opposite side is a section of the river (the River Ouse if anyone's interested - and that probably gives you a huge clue to where I live if you either know the area or research the location).
6) Also in Stanza 6, the two lines at the end in parenthesis are rather like an afterthought - a mental note of something outside the subject of the poem, though in this case vaguely relevant.
7) In Stanza 10, I have capitalised the word 'me' in 'learning Me' to create reminiscence of an educational institution subject, e.g. Maths, French, History.
8) The poem, for me, is like a suspension in day-to-day thought during a suspension of time.
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Stillness, which
was posted on Jan 14, 2012 by
Tianna.
This is a solo poem.
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This poem is filed under:
Free Verse, Imagery
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