Parodos
Long ago, I was wounded.
I learned
to exist, in reaction,
out of touch
with the world: I'll tell you
what I meant to be-
a device that listened.
Not inert: still.
A piece of wood. A stone.
Why should I tire myself, debating, arguing?
Those people breathing in the other beds
could hardly follow, being
uncontrollable
like any dream-
Through the blinds, I watched
the moon in the night sky, shrinking and swelling-
I was born to a vocation:
to bear witness
to the great mysteries.
Now that I've seen both
birth and death, I know
to the dark nature these
are proofs, not
mysteries-
by Louise Gluck
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3 comments:
This poem, has been, and will be, one of my favorites of Glucks. Thanks for the beauty, azf.
i love the last stanza of this poem. it kills me.
i don't know what the dark nature is, but it sounds scary and wonderful.
I agree with cz. I don't think I would want to know the dark nature even if Gluck was willing to tell me.
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