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Zahhar

Erin Thomas


Last Updated: 11/17/2009

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November 30, 2006 - Thursday 

Current mood:tired and hungry
Category: Writing and Poetry

  There's a poet here,
kozmokitty, who has the gift of imagery and metaphor. Yesterday, or maybe it was the day before, I read her latest post, "Deforestation", and it has inspired me to see if I could relate the essential elements of a dream I had several years ago in a form similar to, but not the same as, one of my recent poems, "mausoleum".

  Here's what manifested:

markers


i've dreamt of oaks
   you know?


i was half raven
   the city long since dead
  gray as the silent sky
 streaked with granite

i held the air with
   long black feathers
  in cobblestone canyons
 carved from history

i felt the old walls
   brush my wingtips
  high above narrow lanes
 stretched empty below

then the buildings gave way
   and i soared free
  through an open square
 orange with age

in the distant center
   tall as the canyon
  towers there grew
 an old black oak

its crown was full
   contrast to the lifeless
  city frozen forever
 to a moment in time

it grew from a circle
   closed in limestone walls
  where long sere blades of grass
 rose perfectly still
 
its scaly roots
   swam beneath the ground
  like coiled serpents
 half risen for air

and there i landed
   near its broad round base
  and rustled black feathers
 neatly behind me

high in the crown
   on a long thick branch
  a large raven worked
 at something unseen

its obsidian beak
   puzzled probed and cocked
  'til i found myself lifting
 to see what it saw

and as i rose up
   it studied my approach
  then tossed its small find
 from the edge

it settled deep
   parting long thin blades
  as i drifted back
 to the ground

and about me there gathered
   creatures of every kind
  as i knelt as in prayer
 near the trunk

all kinds of creatures
   from all kinds of spirits
  half-mooned around me
 to see

one stood behind me
   covered with stern brown eyes
  which gazed down upon me
 and in all directions

its skin was the bark
   of all the old black oaks
  returned to the dreams
 of the earth

and i held in my hands
   like a soft feathered stone
  the black figurine
 of a raven

whose breast split in two
   its soft downy breast
  where a glimmer of light
 shone within


  Over the years I've written two other poems inspired by this dream and my subsequently "meeting" the same tree in "real life". It grows by Orr Springs Road, several miles West of Ukiah, CA. The second of these poems I have posted here; it is titled "
Oak Dream". The first I don't currently have posted here, but I'll do so in the not-too-distant future.

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kozmokitty

 
This is my favorite of yours that I have read. The imagery is powerful, and I like the idea of being the raven. I also just have a thing for ravens and crows.

its scaly roots
swam beneath the ground
like coiled serpents
half risen for air

That is my favorite stanza about the tree. Very tasty imagery.

I am sad that I never have more time to chew on your poems. But I love the last couple of stganzas, and the light in the breast of the little raven. This one speaks to me.
 
Posted by kozmokitty on November 30, 2006 - Thursday - 11:16 PM
[Reply to this
Zahhar
Erin Thomas

 
if you ever want to meet the tree, i'll show her to you. she's close to the montgomery woods, so visiting the old black oak would occassion a walk in montgomery woods.
 
Posted by Zahhar on November 30, 2006 - Thursday - 11:45 PM
[Reply to this


 

 held the air with
   long black feathers
  in cobblestone canyons
 carved from history

it grew from a circle
   closed in limestone walls
  where long sere blades of grass
 rose perfectly still


its skin was the bark
   of all the old black oaks
  returned to the dreams
 of the earth

whose breast split in two
   its soft downy breast
  where a glimmer of light
 shone within

These were my favorite stanzas.I read your friend's poem and can see how this could manifest.What draws me to your poetry is your total oneness with nature.You accept it and soak it in.If more humans took the time to watch a sparrow or the clouds float across the sky.Well you get my meaning.

The imagery was almost flawless because I could feel the bark under my fingertips.The roughness and yet it's beauty.The raven gave it an extra strength.A really strong piece and let me know if you want me to put this comment on AP.

I am about to  read Dark Night Of The Soul by Thomas Moore for the 3rd time.Have fun tomorrow and don't forget to close your eyes when you stand at the edge of the water.

~peebles aka Helen LOL


 
Posted by on December 1, 2006 - Friday - 1:22 AM
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