Something was born
in the flushed light of this morning
embraced the listening secret
that need never speak
fish-mute and as silver
moon-shining soft as first feathers.

Would we could we
make home in this woven grass nest
too big and damp for birds
with windows onto the slow painting
of landscapes tree-bowing
to the wind’s rhythmic urgings?

I remember times before
where ghosts walk now
they whisper

dance upon the green grass
dance away the dark into day.

Life and joy are not supine peaceful pleasures
but fierce as oceans wild as open skies
demanding as the voice of a newborn child.

I am posting the Oracle’s message to earthweal’s open link.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

37 thoughts on “Awakening”

  1. The opening stanza stands as a poem on its own, Jane – I love the way you describe morning light! I also enjoyed the thought of ‘windows onto the slow painting of landscapes’. New life is exciting and so welcome.

  2. Robert Graves says it wasn’t poetry unless dazed worshippers circled the fire chanting, “Kill, Kill, Kill.” Certainly the force of what truly is is no “peaceful supine pleasure.” Winter gales aren’t for sure. Curious, who’s the Oracle? One of the voices you channel? -B

    1. Is that from The White Goddess?
      No, gales are anything but peaceful.
      The Oracle is the entity behind the fridge magnets. A few of us have noticed a similarity in the poems we get from using the magnets and it can only be because someone is shoving us in the same direction, can’t it?
      Here’s the link. The word pool is very limited and limiting if you only use the words proposed. Use them as a springboard though and they can be inspriring.

      1. Yep, White Goddess. The Oracle must have been whispering in my ear through your poem as I turned my thoughts to the next weekly challenge. B

    1. The scene was probably in my mind when I wrote this, but it’s a literal birth (Ariadne’s) that I have literally just finished writing. Took a break from it (to wipe away the sweat etc) and opened your poem. Bingo.

      1. I’ve written so many novels now that no one wants to publish, I’ve given up hope that ‘this’ will be the one that breaks the curse. You can read it though whether I get a publisher or not 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s