Apr 05 2008

Prima Materia

 “All things transitory are meant for us as symbols.”

~~Goethe

I look for you

at the back of the wind

in the red thread of dawn

by the Star of the Sea

but you remain hidden

cached between stars

dust of my dust

the old moon wrapped

in the new moon’s arms.

~~kj

Sometimes I hesitate to put a poem as an essay, because the thing about my little pieces is just that, they are little pieces. Most of them are eventually placed within a larger story. So, all you’re getting is a snapshot, an out of context close-up.

But, I am easily inspired, and thankfully, there is no end of essays here that inspire. I can’t resist joining in with a song, even if it’s just a bridge or a chorus.  ðŸ™‚

This poem was written after watching a meteor shower, rolled up in blankets with my honey, at 3:00 one chilly morning. Some of the lines are from old stories and myths, ie. “at the back of the wind,” came from readings on Hibernians and “old moon in new moon’s arms,” a common expression in astronomy (and can be googled for pictures) I happily and most blatantly stole.

Hope you enjoy.  Now go read the essays!  ðŸ™‚

37 comments

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    • kj on April 5, 2008 at 17:55
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    • #

    @;-)

  2. gives me the feeling of yearning, yet with patience, a deep and peaceful feeling.

    always happy to read such good poetry, kj.

  3. Loss and regret?

    • Alma on April 5, 2008 at 19:51
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    It must have been beautiful watching the meteor shower with your sweety.

    • RiaD on April 5, 2008 at 20:35
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    lifes simple pleasures are truly best….

    you’ve captured the majesty and awe of the heavens, somehow…i saw your metior shower before you explained it

  6. Beautiful rendition there.

    Here’s another one from David Whyte that yours reminded me of:

    Working Together

    We shape our self

    to fit this world

    and by the world

    are shaped again.

    The visible

    and the invisible

    working together

    in common cause,

    to produce

    the miraculous.

    I am thinking of the way

    the intangible air

    passed at speed

    round a shaped wing

    easily

    holds our weight.

    So may we, in this life

    trust

    to those elements

    we have yet to see

    or imagine,

    and look for the true

    shape of our own self,

    by forming it well

    to the great

    intangibles about us.

    • Mu on April 6, 2008 at 16:48
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    . . . Angel from Montgomery.  Alas.

    Nicely put, what you wrote, by the way.

    Mu . . .

    • Mu on April 6, 2008 at 19:22
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    . . . my sister is.  She was not insulting or griping at me:  she was telling me that she totally sympathized with me and was as frustrated with my situation as I was/am.  She wasn’t being a nag, she was being kind.  Fyi.

    Mu . . .

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