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.

27 April 2017

Outside the Body

We were dancing around in a circle
and bashing wooden spoons on saucepan lids;
we were twirling and spinning and whirling,
and sometimes, on purpose, doing small skids –
me, my little brother, my Dad (all kids!).
As my body kept the rhythm and pace,
and I still had the grin stuck on my face,
I found myself suddenly outside me
in a floaty, dreamy, delightful place:
watching it all from there, perfectly free.

Then, gradually, gasping and laughing, 
we faltered, wound down, and finally stopped.
Resuming my body, I slipped half in –
I realised later. At the time, flopped
happily breathless on a table topped
with my Dad’s dear pots of maidenhair fern
(on the back veranda, catching the sun)
I didn't know part of me was still out.
Decades later, a friend who was shaman
saw and restored that ethereal part.


Written for Outsider Art, day 26 of April Poetry Month at 'imaginary garden with real toads'. 

(Yes, true story.)

15 comments:

  1. Thanks for bringing to life this wild, wonderful moment.

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    1. Gosh, that was a fast comment! :) Thank you.

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  2. Such an interesting story, and very well told! I love the sense of breathlessness and your father as another child. Very human. Thanks for participating with your wonderful voice. K.

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  3. Awesome! I can relate to the out-of-body experience as it would be an "outsider" as well. I have not heard the word "veranda" since being a child and visiting my grandmother in up-state New York. Both your story and your choice of words brought back fond memories. Hugs, Rasz

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  4. What a glorious memory! And am happy the shaman restored that part later on.......it all sounds magical.

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    1. Yes, until then I was always somewhat ungrounded.

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    2. Not fully present. To other people (according to what they said) it often looked dreamy, absent-minded, 'away with the fairies', 'head in the clouds'. To me it felt as though the physical world and other people were not quite present.

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  5. I love this, especially the bit about dad being just a kid with his children. That's wonderful.

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  6. Very clever, Rosemary. Outsider, outside of what? Outside the body here. The most common I suppose would be one who lives in the outdoors, truly outside also. I love too, the aid of the shaman.
    ..

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  7. I don't know any shaman. Or if I do, I haven't earned their reveal. ~

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  8. I love this! The idea of having an 'out of body' experience is so enthralling! You raised the bar with this one, Rosemary ❤️

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  9. Love this idea, but to me it's a bit scary too.... reminds me of those lucid moment you might have just before falling asleep.

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  10. That is a really fascinating story! Though I imagine it may have been very disconcerting to have gone through it.

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