Monday, February 04, 2008

a poem for imbolg/st brigid's day

Two days late, but it was a busy weekend for me.
I still want to participate, as I have in prior years.
(click here for more info)

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading—treading—till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through—

And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum—
Kept beating—beating—till I thought
My Mind was going numb

And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space—began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here—

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down—
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing—then—

Number 280, by Emily Dickinson


Kerry said...

Go check out the link below...

Sorry it took me so long to let you know about it. :-)


JohnK said...

Did you know that the Dickinson poems can be sung to the theme from Gilligan's island.... and Amazing Grace.

God gave a loaf to every bird,
But just a crumb to me;
I dare not eat it, though I starve,--
My poignant luxury
To own it, touch it, prove the feat
That made the pellet mine,--
Too happy in my sparrow chance
For ampler coveting.

It might be famine all around,
I could not miss an ear,
Such plenty smiles upon my board,
My garner shows so fair.
I wonder how the rich may feel,--
An Indiaman--an Earl?
I deem that I with but a crumb
Am sovereign of them all.

I drove Fran insane one night with my "singing" .

MsAmpuTeeHee said...

kerry ~ wow, yay!! Thanks for the award. That is so cool :-)

john ~ good grief John, WHAT A HOOT. I don't think I will ever read her poetry the same.