Saturday, March 11, 2017

About the Ancient Mystery (Poem 52)

 

You believe no secrets 
can be kept about the ancient 
mystery: how all living bodies 
came forth from a supreme imagination—
from stones, to water, 
to a single, 
shimmering 
dream
—all here, among us, even 
in the unlikely moment 
when you felt the need 
to stop before a tree, 
and were unable 
to rid yourself 
of the idea 
that dissolved 
his freedom. 
Now, solidly rooted, he refuses 
to utter your accolades; but 
long after you've forgotten 
his silence, his blessing 
upon you will be renewed. 
You did not imprison him 
—he succombed to life, 
and then withdrew, 
to tend to 
your departure.




(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

(Inspired by a passage from Swann's Way, by Marcel Proust, whose prose is the purest of poetry.)