I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

26 October 2014

In Soft Morning

In soft morning
memory and pain,
dying away in silent light
before the birds begin,
pretend to be dream.

I let them so pretend.
I fill up my consciousness
with tasks and simple joys
that keep the days passing.

Only when night returns
and finally I lie down,
still on my side of the bed,
a hidden door to the real
opens and lets them in.


31 Poems in 31 Days (Poewar / Writer's Resource Center). Prompt: Start and end poem with same word.

Linking to the Tuesday Platform for October 20, 2015, at 'imaginary garden with real toads'

13 comments:

  1. I love the first line"In soft morning...", and the second, third and fourth flow beautifully from it, but I'm having difficulty understanding and tying in the last line of that verse and the first line of the second verse with the lovely image the poem is creating? Sorry to be so dim about this.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I am saying that memory and pain are pretending to be dreams rather than what they are. The parenthetical clause between commas, in first verse, does make quite a separation between subject and verb.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I have a feeling that sometimes we have days to escape the pain of dreams... a very strong ending here.

    ReplyDelete
  4. i enjoyed how it flowed to me. the wishing the wanting to have pain be a discardable thing whislt to be able to choose between the reality of a dream or that of our waking state.

    gracias

    ReplyDelete
  5. We sometimes let ourselves get trapped in this duality where the past seems more real than the present time...

    ReplyDelete
  6. Oh, what a wonderful ending. I love when that door opens. In the morning I pretend I'm sleeping. And then the chores and daily stuff wakes me like my kids used to.

    ReplyDelete
  7. "I let them so pretend." Night closes in and we have no diversions to save us from our memory and pain. Thoughtful write, Rosemary, and so true.

    ReplyDelete
  8. This poem creates a very calming effect on the reader, even though it is about loss. The cycle of day, night, dream, wakening, life and death seems to be part of the natural course somehow.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Beautiful.
    Such. Gentle feel to this poem.

    ReplyDelete
  10. A beautiful poem about respite during the day from the ever present pain of loss. Beautifully expressed.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Hi Rosemary--this brings up the quotidian weight of loss--the good and the bad really--there is certainly a softness about it here-- a beautiful if sad kind of acceptance--

    That opening is always good. I think--well, sometimes. k.

    ReplyDelete
  12. This has the feel of natural cycles, and so, of life and death, change and adaptation to it. I like the quiet calm it brings.

    ReplyDelete