Birth of a lake

[vaneramos]

In the beginning
was an end.
Out of darkness
came light.
Over the fall of hills
climbed a ribbon of wind.
Out of silence
came endless music.

The void shattered
and mystery split open.

In a fold of the earth
lay a blue breadth of sky.

From the surface
came forth angelic beings
transparent
dancing to the song of atmosphere.

Children of the afterbirth
giants rose from the shore
limbs lucent and shuddering with dew

from their hearts
whispered dreams beyond memory.

Serenely the depths
swelled with secret wisdom
and death was forgotten.

~~~~

I would appreciate constructive criticism of this poem. I have one particular problem with it, but will wait to hear what others have to say.

Here's a list of all my poetry published on this site to date: Van's poems.

Comments

[missprune.livejournal.com]

I understand why you feel ecstatic -- to finish a poem is so satisfying! This won't be a very long-considered response but my initial impressions.

I flowed right into the poem and loved the feel of it immediately. Especially with the first stanza. I felt a tad stopped on the angelic beings, partly because I wasn't sure whether you were talking mayflies or something more unearthly. I suppose my preference would have the word angelic disappear, to be replaced by transparent or something else...
I like the lines about giants very much -- especially "lucent and shuddering with dew" - wow!
My last two remarks are related, I think. On second reading, I wanted to understand what you meant by the "end" that was at the beginning. And at the last line of the poem, I wondered why and how death was forgotten.
It's pretty magical the way it seems to exist (the poem) on two levels, one as an allegory or a myth of creation, and one as a geologic/historic report of how a lake was born.
Now I'm wondering, are the giants on the shore perhaps the big trees?

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Oh dear, I'm afraid I was writing too metaphorically. I like to try to create a visual image of something without actually saying what it is, but sometimes it doesn't work. And I'm afraid that if intelligent readers can't understand the image, then I've missed the mark.

You were right about the trees. The "angelic beings" were supposed to be clouds of mist that appear when warm morning sunlight hits the surface of the water.

The poem was not actually supposed to be a geological description. I wanted to tell the story of a morning, with sun rising over the lake, and everything bright, clear and new.

"Morning has broken like the first morning. Blackbird has spoken like the first day."

So it is an allegory of creation, yes.

"End" and "death" refer to the night. Every day is a new creation. I admit to mildly mocking the Judeo-Christian concept of creation and the universe, which puts so much negative emphasis on death, darkness and the void.

Death is part of a cycle. Walking through a temperate rainforest on Vancouver Island, and seeing mature Douglas firs grown upon the carcasses of dead ones, I realized that death is the beginning of life.

Now I'm rambling. I probably have way too many things to say to cram it all into this little poem.

And that was the problem I had with this poem. I felt it ended too abruptly, didn't resolve.

But now I have another problem. I'm afraid I must be more literal.

the beginning is the end

[dubious-one.livejournal.com]

i have dabbled with the whole birth/death thing. your visual imagery is pretty sweet. it really got a hold of my attention in the beginning. the flow/rhythm got a little screwy the more i read. loved the psuedo aliteration at the end. (i can't spell). i still like how almost oxymornoic the whole subject matter is. it's a "bella morte" if you will. it's honest, it's true, and it's been said before that something is born everytime something dies. this is just on a much larger scale and you did a great job with it because you used your own language and views and that's what counts the most (for me anyway).

Re: the beginning is the end

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Thank you. You're right about the flow and rhythm. Maybe the scale of the idea is too large for a small poem. I might try a series of poems on this theme.