The Oracle sent yet another poem about a tragic female figure. I found this Waterhouse painting to fit the subject, and there is a window, onto another morning.
A child explores a broken cup in the grass.
Had it held poison once, does she remember
the woman weeping in despair
and and and
desire?
Her ghost haunts the shards,
life spilling an ocean of wild pictures,
a a
an embrace then death.
She raises the cup to her lips,
her dreams stirring uneasily,
lets the liquid memory pour
in perfumed peace, a slow stream.
Would time have made a difference?
The girl shakes her head with a soft smile,
Best to make an end
and sleep in the arms of the trees.
From the night, the woman sighs, agrees,
Let the day grow dark,
so so so
this glass may shine
like a star in the grass
for a child to find
in the window of another morning.
I had to go look up the legend, and then I understood the back and forth a bit better. I like the idea of these ghostly memories and “the window of another morning.” Beautiful phrase!
I don’t remember that Waterhouse painting. I may have to come up with something for it, too. 😀
I like this Iseult, she looks as more furious than despairing. I hadn’t realised that there really is a window onto the sea with ships and the possibility of escape and another life. The Oracle is absolutely everywhere!
She really is, and knows everything–she just chooses how or if she’ll respond.
I’m glad she’s looking in regularly.
Yes. I am, too.
🙂
I love the story
I’m pleased you do. The old legends have more drama than anything we can imagine these days.
What a wonderful painting. I agree with Merril, it holds many other stories.
The mystery and ambiguity of the lyrical conversation are just right. (K)
Thank you. The Oracle really amazes me. I don’t know why I keep getting this type of story poem, but there must be a reason.
Stories have many layers.
The best ones do, the true ones.
The story is great. I had to took up the legend too. Was very new to me, but very interesting.
I’m wondering now what legend everyone has looked up. I realise now I was just interpreting the painting as being of Iseult because it fits with the poison in the cup and the ships, but who knows who she is really?
😉
This is an exquisite piece, Jane. Just wow!
Thanks Katy 🙂 The words in the fridge magnets seem to lead this way often at the moment.
Let the glass be found. So that the story might be told. As it is, by you–in a way that is both magical and visceral.
I like this one. I’m glad you did too. The fridge magnets are an endless source of inspiration even though the word pool never changes.