Rapture

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walking-in-rain-gray
I have had a new poem, Rapture, published in Deep Water Literary Journal.

This fabulous new journal seeks to "become a haven for those who write about 
and produce artworks interpreting Darkness, whatever that may mean to the 
creator of the work". 

Their first issue for the year is themed 'Loss' - it contains some 
fantastic artwork, fiction, and poems. You can read mine below, or at 
Deep Water here.

Rapture

Looking through clear eyes
of imminent death, time
is a ponderous fruit,
hanging heavy and swollen
with possibility
in her pendulous swinging basket.

Globular and over-ripe
she blooms with all the days
you will not see,
a still life of
fecundity squandered,
without witness, unconsumed.

God, to take just one more
bite, and this time really savour
the sweet juices running
down the face
and the fingers sticky
and tingling with
the messiness of it all -

would be a rapture.
But, no matter:
we must carry on without her,

disentwining from this world
despite the drive to cling and cling and
aching from the amputated
limb of our projections, we are roused
by wise compulsion to accept
life has been spent,
and we must move on, relentlessly

on, without choice leaving
all those little things unsaid,
and undone,
without choice shedding
the slithery skin that houses us,
but locks us in, and further
our very sense of selves
must fall in cascades of disguise,
unravelling us for – the chill surprise!
of running naked, out into the rain.

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25 responses »

  1. Listening as I read through, until in the second last,

    “disentwining from this world
    despite the drive to cling and cling and
    aching from the amputated
    limb of our projections, we are roused
    by wise compulsion to accept
    life has been spent,
    and we must move on, relentlessly”

    My head begins to tilt the image above until the figure, the person, begins to fall through horizontal rain, down between the trees with their leaves, and branches rushing faster, and faster into the depths to strange circumstance, the weather we live in, in our story.

    I do know why my head thought that way, the twist between the image, and the lines, reminded me as to what it is like to fall down through a well in a great sudden, into instant darkness with nothing to cling to, to grapple upon, the inability to quell the race.

  2. I don’t know if I’ve just been longing for a new poem from you, but that was incredible. Each stanza just became more illuminating. I am having a hard week with sibling drama, and this gave me such perspective. It builds to such a conclusion! Your words and images did their job–they enraptured the reader.

    • What a beautiful response, Michael. I’m so glad the poem touched you. When I write (and read) I’m always just trying to access a mainline to the heart. It’s so good to get your feedback and know that what comes from my heart touches yours. It means a lot :-)

  3. Michele, your poem is beautifully written! It really touches the soul deeply! It makes me smile seeing how greatly you have blossomed in what you share my sister! Thanks for sharing your words…hugs and blessings and congratulations and keep writing!

  4. Congratulations on having yet another poem deservedly published Michele. Regarding the content, perhaps this is why nature makes us decrepit as we age. Once we have lost almost all our faculties we don’t feel as scared of death because we have so little left to lose and may even gain some sweet repose and relief of pain.

    • Good point, Malcolm. I have always thought the same of childbirth: it hurts (!) but you are so uncomfortable by the end of nine months, you don’t care – you just want it to be over! Thanks, Malcolm. :-)

  5. This is magnificent Michele. When you first posted it, I must have read it on the fly and failed to return. Your writing deserves (and can require) so much more. As I sit here and read it over and over, each time I see more and it sinks a little deeper. From the very first read, Rainer Maria Rilke came to mind. I miss reading more of your writing.

    Chris

  6. Hi Chris,

    Thank you for taking the time to read this poem so carefully – what an honour!
    I love love love Rilke…the depth and search for meaning in his poetry is phenomenal. Something to aspire to!

    Thanks Chris

  7. Beautiful, Michele. Very honest and real. You perfectly expressed what we want after a loss: “…to take just one more
    bite, and this time really savour
    the sweet juices running
    down the face
    and the fingers sticky
    and tingling with
    the messiness of it all –
    would be a rapture.”

    Well done.

  8. Wonderful poem. However, after slithering out of my skin I think I’d want to put on a jacket before running out in the rain. I guess I’m not ready.

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