I
suspect
we
might
find
if
we
half-open
our
half-closed
eyes
that
there
is
no
such
thing
as
things
in
slow
motion.
Consider
this.
Have
we
not
seen
pollen
threading
itself
into
light
caught
light
in
the
act
of
in
the
act
of
bursting
on
the
inside
of
pollen
fierce
yellow
particles
seemingly
adrift
yet
all
the
while
crazily
determinedly
in
flight.
CB - December 1999
I'm not entirely sure where this 'thought thread' came from nor what it's about - any ideas welcome. . . !
For more Tuesday Poems, please click on the quill.
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In Sunday's draw, Angela Burn's oil sketch Remnants - boat form, Moeraki was paired with a Dunedin writer/reader - many thanks to you both (I'll be sending you an e- later today. . . ; ).
The next draw will be tomorrow - Wednesday 23 March 2011
I like it - your pollen has landed onto a stigma and grown :)
ReplyDeleteAnd those sub-atomic particles--what about them?
ReplyDeleteI love conundrums like 'half open half closed eyes'. I used to think if I squinted through narrowly closed eye lashes I'd see my Guardian Angel. Some crackpot Christian Brother probably planted that silly notion in my head ... Nice work.
ReplyDeletethis poem does awaken long-dormant memories, claire; i remember sitting at the breakfast table as a child just before leaving to catch the school bus, listening to the weather report on the radio, and watching the dust motes dance in the ray of sunshine from the window...
ReplyDeletea gentle, evocative poem.
xo
susan
A tiny thread of thought and daydream memories it evokes.
ReplyDeleteOne thing I love about poetry is you can write about anything and don't have to apologize for it. xoxo
ReplyDeletep.s. I ordered "Fooling with Words" after the post a couple weeks back or last week - I'm not sure which, but it's lovely and thank you for the unknown recommendation!!
Lovely, Claire, how the light becomes pollen and the pollen becomes light--I'm with Susan, early fascinated by the slant of light with the dust motes seeming to rise out of sight, as you say, in flight. The poem reads effortlessly. L, xo Melissa
ReplyDelete"No such thing as slow motion"? - I love this line, it makes me think that everything that happens takes the exact right length of time. - I'm not sure if I'm making my thought very clear, there.
ReplyDeleteThis is an exiting and thrilling poem..thought thread??..at some point(sub-atomic) there are no edges, all flow as one...??
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this wondering wandering meandering exploding of the thought, the light, the pollen. So tiny AND so potent. px
ReplyDeleteI love the thin thread of this poem - the thoughts like dust motes - the way the words move in slow motion that way.... hand onto these sorts of thoughts Claire! Great. (and I too love watching dust motes)
ReplyDelete*hang on ....
ReplyDelete