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Willow Spirits in the Moonlight
Tiptoeing
on mossy stepping stones
beneath the vault
of heaven
As untamed spirits cling
to shoreline
rocks
and sing their song
to ancient gods
while I slip upon the rocks
in my gin and tonic
stupor,
to see the distant ripples
where she swims
Am I a willow tree, or a howling cat
I can not tell
as I stand motionless
upon the shore
starring at the moon and Mercury
Her sweet smile
never once, in a thousand strokes
disturbs
the groggy eyed water spirits
that sleep in the lake
while I waken every shoreline
spirit
in my clumsiness
The groggy eyed water spirits
know
the cadence of her heart
and sleep
like sweet ghosts below the surface
Deep below the dark shimmering
waters,
they are dreaming
of her four-step sugar dance
But as her ripples fall
one sweet breadcrumb at a time
upon the shore,
it lures the onshore ghosts, to rise
and sing
gathering me – into their call
And as the weeping willows yawl
in the moonlight
under a soft southerly
wind
a host of fiery ghosts flitter about
in their branches
To possess me
and I am the owl
that wakes from a dream
to hoot
at the rippled reflection
of the moon
waiting for another
late
night conquest
~/~
You did it. You made the
You did it. You made the sublime happen, and now I have to go back and read it again so I can fully appreciate just how you made it happen.
I had so many transporting and intoxicating experiences from line to outstanding line that I was, in brief poetic ecstasy, right there under "the moon and Mercury", and between the "untamed spirits" and an enchantress worthy of making a mortal ask: "Am I a willow tree, or a howling cat/ I can not tell . . . "
Then, in a state of transcendental awe and with a wondrous, delicate touch, you breathed poetry fit for the ages:
"and I am the owl
that wakes from a dream
to hoot
at the rippled reflection
of the moon
waiting for another
late
night conquest"
Bowing to your wizardry. Encore!
I raise my wand in
I raise my wand in appreciation to you. Always the pleasure.
The beauty---the magnificent,
The beauty---the magnificent, elegant and exquisite beauty---of this poem is so vast that a single reading cannot take it all in. The verbal combinations, the images evoked, the setting described . . . all of these are so perfectly choreographed to create an overwhelming reading experience. I have been reading poetry for fifty years, as of this past April, and I normally do not allow poems to have this kind of effect on me. But . . . wow! . . . I feel like I did during my senior year in high school when I was first discovering Poetry's emotive effect on one's soul. This poem is one PostPoem's very greatest ones.
Starward
thanks again
Thanks again Starward for providing your beautiful commentary. It’s always much appreciated.