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.

15 April 2016

Light in the Garden of Inner Darkness

comes in the form of a small, white-whiskered cat
(otherwise black, as if not a messenger of light).

The inner dark is down so far deep, it seems
from above, a mild grey only, or a gentle gap,

an undisturbed stillness on the surface of water –
as good as invisible, almost; nothing to remark.

Indeed, it is absence. I could call it loneliness
or loss. But those are the names of clichés

and you are not that – you who are gone
and never gone. In that hidden inner garden, if

the light could shine so deep, I might discern
roses and lavender, hear the clash of metal on stone.

Shine a torch! Bring a spade! Let's excavate! No, not.
Instead, a delicate feline arrives in my life. A gradual

trust is blossoming between us, fragrant. She is new, 
she has nothing to do with my dark (she has her own).

It is only that, when day dawns, the extending sunlight
slowly illuminates even abysses, even labyrinths.


















Written for Day 14 of Poetry Month at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.

Also linking to Prompt Nights, which this week has the topic 'Pour me drops of glorious Sunshine'.

And will be linking, too, to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #298.

28 comments:

  1. Ah, lovely. Sad
    a new favorite of yours. The absence is so powerful. Great you have cat though. K.

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  2. the light could shine so deep, I might discern
    roses and lavender, hear the clash of metal on stone.

    Oh Rosemary this is soo deliciously dark and beautiful! Thank you so much for linking with Prompt Nights :D

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

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  3. oh I love that first line of the cat coming in bringing light... and I can feel her nesting and glowing to give warmth... wonderfully vivid and so much of both light and darkness.

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  4. Goodness...this is as mysterious as thouse light whiskers on this beautiful dark cat...I love the play of light and dark throughout, Rosemary...so deep.

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  5. A wonderful take on the title and a really thought-provoking poem. I was touched by the depths of emotion between the lines.

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  6. Sad sweet and lovely Rosemary!!!

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  7. This is a good, Rosemary. My favorite lines are the first two--I love what they say about the cat in the poem, about black cats in general, and about the speaker's (and many people's) perception of what might be helpful, positive, and bright.

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  8. How cool that she has white whiskers! I resonate with "you who are gone and never gone".....I love the arrival of your "delicate feline" who has her own dark, and the trust that is growing. So lovely.

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  9. I love the fragrant-blossom connection between you and your black beauty...sweet...

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  10. the comforting fragrance of lavender and a pet to befriend you, a delicious overture of words

    much love...

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  11. I understand so well how a delicate feline can bring light into one's life. And that trust...that trust...can enrich life. And yes, she has nothing to do with your dark. SHE is a fresh start.

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  12. Sweetly done. Cats can bring great solace. Interspersed with feline indifference.

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  13. And that light... The warmth it brings... The solace it gives... Nothing like that... U captured it nicely :)

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  14. The last 2 lines say the ultimate truth of life :)

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  15. This completely resonates with me at this time.. I love the line She is new,
    she has nothing to do with my dark (she has her own)... it almost describes what I feel but had no words for. Thank you!

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  16. I love how the title flows into the poem - like a cat's tail gently wrapping around our legs..quietly opening the words..this is a terrible cliche but we do indeed seem to need light in order to see the dark and vice versa..also made me think of the sea and plunging so deep the sun gets lost

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  17. It is only that, when day dawns, the extending sunlight
    slowly illuminates even abysses, even labyrinths

    In one's darkest hour there is always the silver lining the next day that accords salvation most sought after!

    Hank

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  18. the dark is the light, how nice!
    your picture reminds me of a black cat that hangs around the compound of my workplace. it's eyes glow green in the dark. it's wary of people, but okay with me because my friend and some of the guards leave food for it. :)

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  19. There are those days that are so dark and deep, nothing can shine a light in we think...and then a little miracle happens by to give us one beam that shines brightly! Love this....

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  20. My new favorite of yours! This I know:
    "The inner dark is down so far deep, it seems
    from above, a mild grey only, or a gentle gap . . .

    And the rest is revelation. Thank you!

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  21. Beautiful....
    "a delicate feline arrives in my life. A gradual
    trust is blossoming between us, fragrant. She is new,
    she has nothing to do with my dark (she has her own). May the little cat protect and, dispel the inner darkness, and fill you with the resplendent light ...
    The poem leads to profound revelations of emotion. .. I love this, Rosemary!

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  22. one has to let the light in very consciously to come out of that abyss

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  23. ...all deservingly said. :-)
    ZQ

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  24. I love the juxtaposition of darkness and light in this piece and especially that a black cat brings light :-) Yes, indeed they do!

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  25. I like 'Instead, a delicate feline arrives in my life. ' ~ it feels so in a
    counterweight of possible searches...and so balanced with all above. Just marvelous piece.

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  26. Even though we long for it, the light can seem so hard to find. Thank heaven for little furred creatures who need our attention and give without thought.

    Elizabeth

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  27. The intricate weaving of light and dark images, impressions and achingly, deep reflections is beautifully crafted. The little cat seems to pitter-patter through the piece, as if in pursuit of that evocative, coalescing thread that leads the way out of the dark labyrinth. Wonderful writing!

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