In a dark time, the eye begins to see,I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood--
A lord of nature weeping to a tree,
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.
What's madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall,
That place among the rocks--is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.
A steady storm of correspondences!
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,
And in broad day the midnight come again!
A man goes far to find out what he is--
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.
Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire.
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear.
The mind enters itself, and God the mind,
And one is One, free in the tearing wind.
Theoodore Roethke, In A Dark Time
There is an original (and rather tongue-in-cheek) offering for Poetry Thursday here.
3 comments:
Very much my mood too.
Dark short days. Crystaline rime on the trees.
All chill and frozen.
A wonderful poetic offering, and a stunning photograph.
oops - this is the post i meant to comment on about the photo ... though I thoroughly enjoyed your original poem ... I meant to say this photo is incredibly beautiful, so luminous, mystical even. And Roethke -- a difficult poet for me to really connect with -- you chose one of his poems I have enjoyed in the past - and actually could relate to. thanks for sharing that one - for the pairing of your photo and Roethke's words
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