Perhaps it is justA remembering
Of our birth
The warmth of dark waters
Their tides pushing out and drawing back
And then the breach
The departure
The severing
From what tethered us
To the womb
Or to the earth
Perhaps the folly
Is the focus
On the when
The chronic need for timepieces
The turning back and forth of anxious pages
The distraction
The cleaving
To the notion that
Death comes later
And birth was then
Readwritepoem prompt 116 gave us this compelling image by h. koppdelaney to work with.
Perhaps the folly
ReplyDeleteis on the when
the chronic need for time pieces
Perceptive and interesting.
Reminds me of a song we sang as children
Time you old gypsy man
Will you not stay
Put up your caravan
Just for one day
Lovely, Erin! Your introduction of birth gives me a new aspect that hadn't occurred and you have written it beautifully.
ReplyDeleteStunning image; spellbinding poem. Thank you!
ReplyDelete"Death comes later
ReplyDeleteAnd birth was then"
Nicely done!
Pamela
The final lines are so provocative! Nice work!!
ReplyDeleteSpellbinding is a good word for this one.
ReplyDeleteI had to read it many times, it is so rich.
xoxo
Love the allusion to mother, earth and time. Well done.
ReplyDeleteNice work!
ReplyDelete~rallentanda: I love the connection to your childhood song; it speaks to the need we seem to have to break from time or at least not be driven by it...
ReplyDelete~Derrick: Thanks! The dark waters in the picture made me immediately think of birth...
~ds: Thank you!
~Tumblewords and Pamela: Thanks so much. The last lines were the hardest for me to come up with...
~Annie: Thanks! I'm glad you thought it worth re-reading.
~Cristina: Thanks for stopping by. I'm glad you saw the mother connection here...
~Joyce: Thanks for reading!
Love the way you have worked on the tropes of birth and death in your poem.
ReplyDeleteErin, sorry I am so late getting to your poem this time!
ReplyDeleteYou captured me quickly with the idea of remembering our birth because my youngest daughter (28) swears that she remembers her birth. Not the hoopla around her once she was breathing but the experience of passage through the birth canal itself.
I love the ending notion that the sequence of birth and death are (perhaps) an illusion, a distraction.
Beautiful evocative poem with a strong philosophical and spiritual implication.
Thank you, Erin!