Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-
"We play from the time we wake till the day ends.
We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon."
I ask, "But how am I to get up to you ?"
They answer, "Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your
hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds."
"My mother is waiting for me at home, "I say, "How can I leave
her and come?"
Then they smile and float away.
But I know a nicer game than that, mother.
I shall be the cloud and you the moon.
I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will
be the blue sky.
The folk who live in the waves call out to me-
"We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know
not where we pass."
I ask, "But how am I to join you?"
They tell me, "Come to the edge of the shore and stand with
your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves."
I say, "My mother always wants me at home in the everything-
how can I leave her and go?"
They smile, dance and pass by.
But I know a better game than that.
I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore.
I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with
laughter.
And no one in the world will know where we both are.
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
-
Positive but somewhat confusing
I liked the fantasy flow, bit was lost in the continuity and was somewhat confused by your thrust -
Good poem
It reminds me of a context in neo-platonism that could be considered a paradigmatic derivative of the Enneads of Plotinus. In the realm of the Soul the material world is created. The material world is an emmination from The One or God, and at this third level down (and just below the realm of forms) The Soul might consider its actualization in various contexts such as Rabidranth elucidated above.
The Soul encapsulated in part as a sort of individualized fractalized soul may be human and whole, or fractioned and dysfunctional losing track of the one. Of course unbelievers may forever be lost from renormalization unto The One chasing after cold dark matter or whatever. Everything is eternal although actualization of forms changes.
I must say that it is a better idea than writing something more morbid like 'The graveyard is an old acquantaince, keeping the old friends society together until one joins them, it allows a quiet rest through turbulent, brawling nights of war and winter.
Plotinus' paradigm is consistent with both Christianity and Evolution theory paradoxically. I rcently discovered that Pope John Paul also had accepted the notion that Genesis may be a sort of poetic sketch that can contain evolution theory, and it is a mainstream theological belief in theology schools.





