Between two trees, two souls,
two pairs of eyes,
were met.
My own, my world-reverting windows;
the unknowable depths of the eyes of a doe.
Black orbs reflecting brightness more
than ink and darkness fathomless
has ever done elsewhere.
Encompassed by the woods,
the green and stillness,
by the water and wind and their words,
separated with a gateway of two trees and longing so
to cross a threshold of well-thriving earth
and intermingled, twining roots.
My body in the gentling breeze,
naked and defenseless but for clothes;
a space of empty nothingness of twenty feet;
a soft and supple unease:
movements of a doe in the woods.
The space before my life,
in all my eyes, in all I'll one day hope to be,
in all my eyes, in all I'll one day hope to be,
in the voice of the wind and the hands of the trees bereft,
wherefrom a doe, frightened, left me and fled.
Emptiness echoes from the sylvan spaces,
echoes:
"
Cain,
you son of Cain,
I run, and run
from you.
"
A forest sounds its depths and finds its echoing in me.
You have a thing for deer :)
ReplyDeleteThis poem has a very unique beauty about it. It takes an experience, an encounter and sounds like the most honest attempt at a translation of the moment, making it very raw and sincere. It's a beauty very different from the poems of your thoughts or ideas, like this poem is simply a window through which to see the real object of interest, not the object in and of itself. It's an unselfish, almost innocent beauty. As if the poem were talking, not saying "look at me," but "let me help you realize the world around you."
"Black orbs reflecting brightness more
than ink and darkness fathomless
has ever done elsewhere."
I love this stanza. It's not actually a description of the physical eyes, but the character and personality. It communicates far beyond the words.
I really like the opening lines too. They are smooth and set the scene perfectly. I always have trouble with the beginnings of poems. They always sound weird to me. I never know what to start with.