For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

Monday, 21 January 2008

Aeolian

Although it's probably far too early to think about spring being around the corner, in the garden the winter aconites are in flower and the snowdrop, daffodil and crocus shoots are all coming through. Here's a poem I wrote about the coming of last year's spring. We all need a bit of cheering up on this wet and miserable January morning.

aeolian

long months hibernating
then hearing your voice melting snowfall

no axe breaking the frozen sea
but soft wind warming cold river

from dark earth crocus flowers
and cherry blossoms on twisted twigs

black crows strut on black earth
tricking the eye

and coyote howls the world
back into light


Both the the crow and the coyote figure - often as "trickster" characters - in various creation myths. Aeolus is the Greek god of wind. So "aeolian" means "carried by the wind" - new life, or inspiration perhaps. Coleridge mentions the strings of this Aeolian lute in his great ode, Dejection; and Lawrence talks of the wind that blows through me in his poem Song Of A Man Who Has Come Through. The 3rd line is supposed to recall Franz Kafka's idea that a book (art) must be the axe to break the frozen sea within us.

1 comment:

am said...

Thank you for your vivid poem which tells me that, in late January, Western Washington State is very much like your region of England, especially with the black crows. I've see them strutting and skipping everywhere this week despite the gloomy weather.