Dreams of animals

Painting by Paul Sérusier.

No wind in my hair
the heat still as death
shimmering blue as damselfly wings
as blackbirds’ eggs.

Sitting by the lake
I listen to the woods
and their thousand sounds
a language I will never speak.

This spring light is sweet as roses
soft as peach skin
shining on these hills
and distant plains where murder is done.

We drive through frantic traffic
beneath a brazen sky
guided by the tiny sound
of two beating hearts.

Perhaps there will be no storm tonight
no moon
and we will see white Bóinne
scatter her milky stars across the sky.

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.

11 thoughts on “Dreams of animals”

  1. The Oracle sees the world around us. I know I can’t, but sometimes I almost feel like if i tried a bit harder I could that language (in stanza 2).

    Who is Bóinne?

    1. I’ve just read the wikipedia entry and it doesn’t mention the version l like best, that the Dagda hides Boinn in the sky as a white cow and drops of her milk scatter to form the stars of the Milky Way.

  2. I think tha somehow we comprehend that language even if we don’t speak it. We all had listening this week. In short supply among humans.

    My first association was milk from the cow for the milky way, the river of stars. The legend is not exactly that, but close enough. And what a lovely painting. (K)

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