Survivors

Survivors

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Notes From Near The Cedar River


©  Steve King 2015
All Rights Reserved

I cannot see the way from here, out of
this darkness, and the weight of every dream—
strange transients, each one too brief to mark
its meaning on the face of any mood.
The night brings unmapped worlds into my view,
a dark vision that shares no grand display
beyond a bare perception, though I look
to every star, on each grim shape alive
in phantom silhouette, to reflections
that dance on surfaces, yet flare as deep
as any sky-bred fire in distant keep,
all borning to this unquiet intent.

The flow I hear, and I can sense movement
upon this world; a leaving, and the gift
of bringing far to near; a sense of old
and of the yet unknown, but never one
to mark an easy instant here for me,
to substitute for what must suit as now,
that holds no comfort, either of my place,
or where any horizon may yet call.
All cause remains a mystery to this:
each testing thought only hypothesis,
no startling conclusions to the fore,
no matter what another may conceive
about these musings, or the nascent brief
of any notion set to flourish here.

If wishes led, then might I find a path,
for I have spent a soul on each desire
that raised me to make bold in sentiment,
in faiths and perspective, in loves and song;
and more, when art has failed to every end,
and I aspired to music of next best.

Yet I cannot imagine better things,
or different half measures to embrace,
than to behold myself in every way
unfinished, and awaiting fuller days,
each draught of expectation just enough,
compelling me to silence at the last;
but decent silence, not forlorn escape,
nor uneasy retreat from some unknown:
these scattered stars remain and they may leave
no disarray.  It is for me to trace
the measure of those ageless ones complete
in every shaded meaning cast below,
in latent music teasing all around,
which holds no cadence for impatient hearts.

For there is art to spare in this waiting:
imagining the shapes of destiny,
and forms to fill out every half-cast dream.
Each hollowed moment gathers to the point:
how hopes must find their birth in emptiness—
a dark invention of the soul’s escape
from all that weighs; how hoarded memories
wake to remind of each thing fallen short;
how each unspoken, unremitted sin,
in its reluctant rising to fresh light,
may gain a grace to turn its burdens right,
or even find brief peace within the folds
of some abiding ambiguity.

A modest triumph, to outwait a night
and gather modest truth; for I am where
all meanings must devolve if any be;
if meaning may be recognized at all
beyond the murmur of the shifting airs,
the roll of waters, and the moon’s new light.
Such modest triumph, teasing beauty so
from each intruding thought, each pausing word,
in sudden longings that would steer my heart
if only I might let an old one go.

And so I hold for newness and surprise,
and cede a patience that is rare in me.
The old night, calling faintly to its own,
with a new irony smothers old dreams;
I am a page awaiting its new marks
that render paths to where old souls repair.

Withholding judgements now, and past all care,
I shall remain, ‘til beauty shows me there.


A new poem for Poets United
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15 comments:

  1. I often wonder if we always remain unfinished, and if that is a grace in itself, or if something is perfecting and refining us through experience to a definite end. I then wonder if it even matters. ;_) So much of the meat of physical life is process, so why not inner life as well, and perhaps the point of being alive is only living, and the point of experience the experiencing. Anyway, I am wandering off at a tangent, but these words do resonate with me--i have a poem in the cauldron with a few similar mental tidbits floating in it--and they also have an innate beauty to them which evokes the beauty they discuss and frame and await. Too many favorite lines to quote, Steve, but I did particularly love '.. If wishes led, then might I find a path,/for I have spent a soul on each desire..'

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  2. what a wonderful journey in your words steve...from standing at that crossroads seeking direction...to gethering truth...and the meanings....seeing some devolve and i would say some develop as we grow and change and learn more....outwaiting that night....i am kinda glad wishes do not lead...as they are not always the best and are cemented more to feeling in the moment...

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  3. I took my time to read this Steve ~ I specially admire these parts:

    a sense of old
    and of the yet unknown, but never one
    to mark an easy instant here for me,

    and:

    Yet I cannot imagine better things,
    or different half measures to embrace,
    than to behold myself in every way
    unfinished, and awaiting fuller days

    For me, there is a sense of gratitude to the waiting of the old night to pass ~ Enjoyed the nuances of your reflections Steve ~

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  4. There is a gentleness and patience in this journey, I feel like this is spoken as an advice to thread lightly, and always think and doing right to our quest (whatever that might be) after all we have all the time and yet almost no time at all. A great write that deserve many readings.

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  5. An ambitious write Steve - but you definitely pull it off - Great! I really enjoyed this and, like Bjorn has said, the way you lead us on with you in this journey... Thank you Scott With BestWishes Scott www.scotthastie.com

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  6. Wow. I read this slowly, to absorb its fullest meaning. This is a very beautiful write....elegaic.........I love the patient waiting for fuller days...and especially love your closing lines......"til beauty shows me where." A spectacularly good poem.

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  7. Beautiful words, phrases, images, which artfully kept me reading through the length of this poem, to reach the lovely conclusion.

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  8. You mastered the "if" in thinking in this piece. well penned.
    ZQ

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  9. For there is art to spare in this waiting:
    imagining the shapes of destiny,
    and forms to fill out every half-cast dream...

    I can see that a lot of thought and commitment to the writer's art went into this poem. The end result is splendid, leaving the reader with many thoughts on what it means to be.

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  10. Your 4th stanza speaks to me, of personal evolution and transformation and living in the now.

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  11. While reading it felt like this should have been two or three separate poems, then you brought it all together again at the end. Well done.

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  12. Hi Steve,

    So much easier said than done--and yet not easily said either--but beautifully said here.

    This was the stanza that rang so very true to me (all I think rang true to your journey--I'm talking about my striving state):

    If wishes led, then might I find a path,
    for I have spent a soul on each desire
    that raised me to make bold in sentiment,
    in faiths and perspective, in loves and song;
    and more, when art has failed to every end,
    and I aspired to music of next best.

    The poem certainly presents the wisest answer--but we hear time's chariot winging near--and it is hard not to try to force some writing onto the page. Have you ever read any of His Dark Materials books by Phillip Pullman--The Golden Compass is the first, and describes a process of discovery and interpretation that involves looking askance almost--yet with acuity--anyway, beautifully fit-together poem. Hope all is well. k. (Http://Manicddaily.wordpress.)

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  13. Hey Steve, this could certainly fit with that Toads challenge, though they may want a new poem --but it does describe a place of creation and contemplation and waiting, of course. You know, I think one does what one can. I always want to do so much, but in the end, if I don't just settle for what I can, I don't do very much. (Agh.) Thanks. k. (Manicddaily)

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  14. Stopping by to catch up on some writing. I love how you explored this, going from the vastness of the universe, back to the pondering and introspective thoughts of the man. The lines that struck a chord with me (as with others above) are:

    "Yet I cannot imagine better things,
    or different half measures to embrace,
    than to behold myself in every way
    unfinished, and awaiting fuller days,…"

    Perhaps because I myself relate to "unfinished" and am ever-hopeful for better things to come. Thanks for sharing & inspiring, Steve.

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