This is the time of the white earth
I am not afraid
It will pass
Everything passes
And fades
Two years back I read the book
About the first age
It made no sense to me
Time still passed
Behind the doors
No matter if the words fell
Forwards
Or back
I have been out for thirteen days
The white van comes
I hear the bell
Freeze
It takes my clothes away
I am still inside
The black shirt
I ran
In
I am still inside
I put the nails
In the door
The second age is halfway past here
It chases us up the hill
Through the grass
We slip breathe cry in the hedge
Don’t see us
Please
We have to move
For the purple
That keeps our heart beating
Like the cloak on the shoulders of the dead queen
Purple drowning
White fur
The old lady makes up the flowers
Her hands knotted
Like vines around brown paper
She passes them to me
Without word
I give her the water
We run
When it is dark
Lay the flowers
Keep the paper
He was born
When I was born but left
At one day
He did not see the first age
Or the second age
He did not see me
His name
His name is enough
This is the time of the white earth
I am not afraid
It will pass
As everything passes
And fades.
You are so right. Sometimes we can recognise the ages as they come and go, sometimes we miss them. But most of the time they laugh at us when we ignore them, we shouldn't do that. Life is for living and loving.
ReplyDeleteUnderneath the mud and the dust..that is probably the only thing left..thank you OldEgg..
ReplyDeleteVery beautifully illustrated ... coming of the ages is a journey we all got to endure !!!
ReplyDeleteVery nice.
ReplyDeleteMy response to the SILENCE prompt can be found here: http://proartz.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-summer-of-1974-short-fiction.html
I love the description of the old woman's hands.
ReplyDeleteWe cannot go through life afraid. Frightened people do terrible things to themselves and each other. Most of life's tragedy and cruelty comes from fear.
"this is the time of the white earth" I feel that so strongly - another winter. I am not afraid either but sometimes the passage is so slow. And others it goes so quickly I am afraid to close my eyes.
ReplyDeleteLove the imagery of the cloak, purple drowning white fur and the old lady hands (Mine look more and more like hers) Stay warm Jae.
Thank you very much Green Speck..
ReplyDeleteThanks CJ..good to see you..
Yes they were strong hands..purposeful..thank you Ann..fear is a tricky adversary..the reason behind many things I am sure..love..aggression..uncertainty..
Thank you Dee..sometimes you can feel time whooshing by it's true..maybe that's why we get wrinkly hands..from hanging on so tightly..I was trying to exercise my creative brain cell and paint apocalypse Sunday - seems however that j's internal landscape is so bleak it is normal! Hadn't even thought of it as a metaphor for winter or old age..that'll teach me for taking Alice everywhere.. ;)
"As everything passes." Tout lasse, tout passe...
ReplyDeleteReads apocalyptic, Jae, vividly, intensely, passionately. I am ever amazed by your strength and creativity.
ReplyDeleteOn the topic of fear... I've long believed that fear is the opposite of love. Your thoughts?
I have been under the weather for three weeks now. Darn flu, I guess. Good to read you today.
This is truly a beautiful poem, Jae. Sad, yet accepting of the seasons that mark our lives. Some longer, some shorter, but always just enough to accomplish what was ordained. I am glad that you are among us once again.
ReplyDeleteI hope..I hope..merci bien Berowne..
ReplyDeleteThank you Kim..nothing cures the flu like an apocalyptic rambling..maybe fear is part problem..part cure..
Thank you Josie..it is good to be here..passing seasons..and words..
So true that everything passes, Jae. I have come to appreciate that. Some things definitely SHOULD pass.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely so..thank you kindly Mary..
ReplyDeletefear is a safety deterent, to me, if used in moderation...I don't feel "fear" in this,,,how are you this morning, Ms. Jaerose
ReplyDeletej is descending into early evening..but in a good way thank you Glenn..nothing left to do with the day but draw the curtains and settle in...I think you're right this one wasn't perhaps as full of fear as usual..ms rose can be a little defiant..on good days..thank you..
ReplyDeleteAs my mom always said, "This, too, shall pass..." and then she'd add, "like a kidney stone."
ReplyDeleteI liked your message of hope, of making it through the white into whatever is next. I'm all for affirmation and positive outlook.
Love, Amy
http://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/11/19/bitter-silence/
This is powerful and quite inspiring on several levels...
ReplyDeleteOh what do they all know of the unknowable? A sip of the white queen’s potion and you shall slay the Jabberwocky, Ms Rose. Worm fat, buttered fingers, three coins from a dead man’s pocket… Buon appetito!
ReplyDeleteTsk..your mum makes a good point! Gallstones are worse because they have no exit ramp..just turn you delightfully yellow..optimism is good..thank you Amy :)
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Optimistic..good to see you..
Loves you ms z ;) ... I love that buttery finger brew too..
Thank you for the kind comment on my blog. May I become your newest follower??
ReplyDeleteI love this "white time of year." The transformation is so unbelievable, gives us the opportunity to "see" differently. No reason for fear, really.
ReplyDeleteOf course..Optimistic..no need to ask..would be a pleasure!
ReplyDeleteWhite is so important..often forgotten in the palette of life perhaps..too bright and it hurts..too dull and it no longer gives light..but when it's just right..aha..thank you Annell x
Sooner rather than later each age passes. I'm trying to savor each age and stage of life before it's gone. I love your work, Jae. God bless.
ReplyDeleteThank you so Belva..your outlook is to be admired..
ReplyDelete