Friends! Songs in the Garden: Poems from the Land of Becoming launches TOMORROW!
Last week, I shared a sneak peek of the flagship poem in this collection: “The Patient”. This week, I thought I’d give you a taste of the long narrative poem that anchors the book—a poem entitled, simply, “The Dream”.
I’ve made rather a habit of building poetry collections around long narrative poems. Songs in the Gate was born partly because I wanted a vehicle to share my first completed venture in this genre: “The Witch of Hampstead Heath”. I also seem to write narrative poetry solely based on vivid dreams. Like the dark, Poe-esque tale of the witch, “The Dream” came from a nighttime wandering so sensorily vibrant that it practically poured itself into verse.
Here’s a taste—including the introduction—in both written and video form.
Remember: to read the rest, you’ll have to get the book! Stay tuned tomorrow for LAUNCH DAY GOODNESS!
The Dream
Like “The Witch of Hampstead Heath”, this—my second completed venture into long narrative poetry—came from a vivid dream. Unlike the Witch, however, the dream itself became a part of the story: the self-consciousness, the sensory saturation, and the sense of unreality which pervaded this nighttime saga are the only fitting setting for the tale that resulted.
As for the message, and how it belongs in this collection of garden-grown poetry . . . I shall let the dream speak for itself.
I dreamed I fell into the sea
The water, warm and sweetly wet
Gamboled invitingly—and yet
The land was far too far from me
I knew where I was meant to go
—A city on the distant shore—
But if I, panicked, grabbed a door
Too soon, or late, I do not know
I’m certain only that I fell
Into the ocean—waking, wild
But not afraid, for sun-waves mild
Caressed me, whisp’ring: “All is well”
All was not well: for I was not
Alone, as I had first believed
In ancient times, the depths conceived
Begetting creatures Time forgot
The water’s surface broken by
A massive back with curving spine
Bone-white; skin lustrous, smooth—as fine
As pearls no treasure house could buy
Not one, but many beasts surrounded
Me; but, ere my fear was firm
A touch behind caused me to squirm
Around; a cry of “Oh!” resounded
It was my cry—for there I saw
So near it overwhelmed my sight
Unlikely answer to my plight
A beast outside of nature’s law
You are always so lyrical, your poems beget such vivid images. Thank you again for your imaginative, vivid words which draw one in.
So excited!!!!
I like turtles!