Pale leaves cling fast to the wind-battered tree;
The autumn-craving flesh is deeply thrilled!
As dim as dreams, cloud-balked, the sun leaks through,
Spilling its feeble light upon the world.
The noise of cackling crows pierces the cold,
Presaging winter's nights of snow and ice:
November's stubborn flowers nipped and killed
By north-wind's stinging blast; skies gray as mice.
Some souls there are who watch, grace-parched, light-starved,
For love's long-prophesied nativity
In a stone-hard, bone-chilled place: a fear-wracked time:
Unvisited, it seems, unblessed, unmoved
By him who makes all dead life live anew:
Each human heart a cave in Bethlehem.
9 comments:
Dear Dylan,
Far stronger, but considerably bleaker. Do they go hand in hand? I preferred the sense of the other, but I prefer the poetry of this one.
shalom,
Steven
Steven (and Meredith, if you're still reading!) --
I worry now that my "unalterable" last line doesn't seem to fit in with the tone of the rest of the poem!
And I'm still uneasy about "is deeply thrilled" in the line that Meredith liked -- the passive voice should be avoided (ha!).
I think it was Meredith who nudged me in the direction of trying a more Hopkinsian-GeoffreyHillish diction for the sestet, and away from the Audenesque-Larkinian smoothness.
But, Steven, thank you as always for your kind words, for your encouragement, for your attentive and respectful readership.
dylan/TD
"Old cave of calcium icicles, old echoer." I actually think that the final line meshes well with the new tone! You have darkened the sestet by shifting the cold into the "souls":
a chilly and unfavorable place / Apparently unvisited by Him
becomes
souls there are who watch....Unvisited, it seems, unblessed, unmoved
Before, it seemed like the souls were serenely waiting out the cold weather. Now the cold, hungry souls are yearning for their emptiness to be filled. I think that this is paradoxically more hopeful.
As to the Hopkins/Hill diction: those sure are some sprung rhythms! (stone-hard, bone-chilled place: a fear-wracked time) Though I felt like the first two lines almost set a Keats/Roethke sort of tone. I do like this draft better. Will you keep playing with it? I know how these exercises can be; sometimes you just want to prove that you can write a sestina or whatever and be done with it. ^_^
Meredith --
Thank you for the kindness and the care with which you've read my still-inchoate effort! I value the wisdom with which you speak about the art of poetry.
Dear Dylan,
Now that you mention it, I do think that the last line seems somewhat out of place in the recast poem. And yet, there is a sense in which it matches, balances, and off-sets the first line of the sestet. Perhaps that "discomfort" is perfectly apposite for a season which is primarily one of slightly awkward hope?
shalom,
Steven
Steven --
Discomfort and awkwardness: I write what I know!
Thanks for visiting and for your benevolent scrutiny of this gusty, clumsy, fumbling fourteen-liner!
Dylan, I came here via your comments at Inscapes about Millie's poetry in TCR -- she was most humbled and grateful for them. I have enjoyed browsing your work -- so much lovely poetry!
It is with fear and trembling that I say anything about this particular sonnet, as I am not a poet by any stretch of the imagination . . . So solely as a reader -- could you make the "autumn-craving flesh" "thrill" instead of "be thrilled" somehow? Keep that perfect word, but not passive -- I keep trying to think what could go in the line to provide the needed extra syllable, though, and can't see it. But I think, since "thrilled / world" is a slant rhyme anyway, "thrill(s) / world" would still work in that regard.
(hmm, a thought as I was finishing up this comment . . . what about "the flesh, autumn craving, deeply thrills" -- the comma after flesh creates the extra syllable -- Hopkins-like in using pauses to complete the meter . . . may not keep the same meaning you are after, however.)
Do you intend the ambiguity of whether it is the "souls [. . .] who watch" or the "long-prophesied nativity" that occurs in the "stone-hard, bone-chilled place"? I like it, and it compels me to think about the fear of the times in which He was born as well as the fear of the lonely and longing soul - fear and need are the same always and everywhere. Personally, I love the final line; I can't pin down why, but it seems to pick up on the imagery and the thought just right . . . (I know, it's not all that much help when it can't be articulated; sorry!)
Anyway, I really like the sonnet, finished or no, and I'm grateful for your sharing it. The imagery is chillingly lovely and lyrical, and it resonates with me as a picture of my own times of longing to *know*, to *see*, redemption in the darkness of depression that made me feel "unvisited, [. . .] unblessed, unmoved" -- but He *was* born in Bethlehem, *has* been born in me, and "makes all dead life live anew" -- even when I don't feel or see it. Thanks!
Blessings,
Beth
Beth --
Thank you for both the praise and for the gentle candor with which you express your reservations. I am actually beyond grateful, I am abashed and humbled by the charitable attention with which you and everyone else have read the three (very rough!) drafts.
I think that rather than changing "thrilled" to the active, I'd sooner alter the line altogether and substitute some other slant-rhyme word like "mild" or "wild." The terminal "d" seems essential to me, sonically, for reasons I know not.
And thank you for noting the ambiguity about the "stone-hard, bone-chilled place": I did intend it to be the place of the nativity, but the ambiguity you note is possible!
I must confess, I feel haphazard as a poet, acutely aware that I have something akin to an unwriterly "attention deficit" -- whereby I can't detect the obvious shortcomings in even a piece as brief as this -- and because of which I find it hard to sustain my "point" for much longer than the length of a sonnet. I always get caught up in the seductive sounds of words that might not quite be germane or even sensible. (And besides, I can lapse into outright silliness at times, if you've read some of the other poems I've posted here!)
And about Millie's poetry: It is bracing and gladdening to see her dedication to this craft, and an expertise that is truly a gift: from God to her, and from her to her readers!
Thank you, again, Beth, for stopping by -- and for your kind, sagacious comment!
Nooooooo! please keep "The autumn-craving flesh is deeply thrilled!" Pretty please! There is no law against using the passive voice where it is appropriate. Strunck and White are not the arbiters of poetry. "I'm thrilled" is a perfectly solid idiom. And "Thrilled is the flesh" is still passive voice, but with an inversion.
But it's your poem.... I just thought that the orginal first two lines were just about perfect in terms of sonic balance. I didn't think you need ed to change anything there.
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