Monday, September 24, 2012

jet trail


neither forward nor backward,
it divides the sky

and tapers
through the sun (its body);

the right end puffs, feathered
and disintegrating,

the other end thinly
points

then suddenly veers at an angle,
with invisible wings 

* * *

sandhill cranes stutter above,
though I can’t see them;


* * * 

without chronology,
this syntax satisfies both

what is alive in me
and what is dead

16 comments:

  1. You are taking Erin's advice, to engage in the moment!
    I do too.
    And I'm more accepting when I don't have the chronology, when I don't see and don't know all the facts.

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    1. Rosaria, I am always taking Erin's advice, I think.

      Maybe we should welcome shadow times more eagerly, believing they help us live in the moment. Thank you.

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  2. I have nothing but respect for your journey Ruth--to see you facing life and writing on through it to this fine piece, backing down to neither physical pain nor cerebral bumps in the road. This will be always one of my favorites of yours--especially the soaring conclusion, the simplicity of the demarcation of past and present, meaning and non, both as vague and as extremely defined as sea and sky.

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    1. Hedge, many thanks for your companionship on the journey, and for your respect and fondness for this poem.

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  3. To just see, notice, name is enough. You are enough, you have enough and I honor you.

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    1. Mary, and that is more than I could hope for. Thank you.

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  4. I agree with hedgewitch, this is such a fine piece — though I'm not sure the conclusion is meant to be "soaring" — it's more ambiguous than that. More like a dull thud, actually! Really good poem — close observation leading to the heard but unseen leading to the thinking/emotional personal centre. Hard, spare and contemporary.

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    1. Thank you, Robert. I am quite interested by both the soaring and the dull thud responses, because I think you both simultaneously agree with my feelings!

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  5. in the elegance of this slender, powerful piece, you have me thinking - in the absence of chronology does duality cease to exist?

    that thin white line, it is present in both the contrail of a jet and the anatomy of a crane. both pierce the sky, one inert and one alive.

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    1. Amanda, I appreciate your sight and question. My response is that I think it must be, when we step out of time, duality and chronology and other manmade structures disappear.

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  6. Replies
    1. Gail, it was such a vision, that jet trail. It's nice sharing Instagram with you. :-)

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  7. and i can't tell up from down

    nor perhaps, alive from dead (who am i to know?)

    ***

    there is a beautiful and mysterious division, the sandhill cranes, the natural, the real, as the midpoint of the equation in your poem. all else folding out from this. so it seems with existence too.

    this is particularly and incredibly beautiful, ruth, so reduced and revealed. however, however, however (and this is crucial) the mystery remains.

    i come away with the words alpha and omega in my mouth not fully understanding why)))

    xo
    erin

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    1. Erin, there is much in what you say. The wide spectrum is always reduced in each atom, each moment. How can we see it, how can we attempt to see it, or simply let it be seen by that nature in us that judges not, divides not? I think this is the work, to receive and welcome these realities until they flow through us into one single drop.

      I'm so appreciative for you.

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  8. I rarely have anything to add or supplement with - just a nod and quiet thanks for your sharing of form and syntax, whatever their form or syntax...

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    1. Wendy, thank you for not being silent. Your affirmation means a lot.

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All responses are welcome.