An Arctic curtain shifts from fuchsia
to emerald, ripples in sinuous folds
in the pavilion of night; fluoresces
as solar winds slipstream past.
Think of it - a sky three million years cleaner
brimming with diamond dust; primitive
man shindigging around flaming peat
whipstitching the air with his club
and pointed, stone-headed stick, keening
to the heavens and promising, in his language
of grunts and postures, to deliver a sacrifice.
Though science casts a cold light
as it dissects this phantasmagoria
we still go rigid, gasp and point
fingers.
Made suddenly small in God’s universe
we are free to drift with the cosmos,
sense that part of us that is still
stardust;
embrace the call of like to like.
Borealis (original draft)
Sheer curtains blend from fuchsia
to emerald, hang in sinuous folds
in the pavilion of night; fluoresce
as solar winds slipstream
around the planet.
Bewitched by this phantasmagoria
I ponder ancient man, wonder
what he called the bleeding skies;
which god he thought he’d angered;
and if he cowered in the deepest nook
of a communal cave, squat down
and shivering in the dark.
Think of it - a sky three million years cleaner
brimming with diamond dust; primitive
man shindigging around flaming peat
whipstitching the air with his club
and pointed, stone-headed stick, keening
to the heavens and promising, in a language
of grunts and postures, to deliver a sacrifice.
Science books swell with colorful plates,
dissect the mysterious recipe with charts
and techno-speak, yet we go still as stone, gasp
and point fingers, suddenly made small
in God's universe.
Some wise cuts and rephrasing strengthen this poem and clarify its core: a sense of wonder at the Northern Lights.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, that's a lovely picture: I've always wanted to see the Northern Lights, but never have.
And "whipstitch" is an excellent verb.
yay! fluff!!! was hoping to get at least one vote on the rev to see if this went in the right direction. thank you!!!!! I had the good fortune to see them here on LI about 6-7 years ago - we had an abnormally large amount of flares or whatever passing us - got the fuscia colors, it was wild and awe inspiring. was able to take some photos, too. before that I had seen a lime green version when I was around 15 - now that was spooky. awe inspiring, but spooky.
ReplyDeleteI think you took this in the right direction. Of course, me, being image driven, I prefer the first two strophes to the last, the parts that make me picture the borealis as cosmic quilt studded with gems. The philosophical bit at the end doesn't appeal to me as much nor does the sacrifice bit. Still, lots to like in this.
ReplyDeletethanks Laurie!!! appreciate the input and the visit. good to know what's working!
Deletecookie,
ReplyDeleteI too like the rev. Aren't they something! Seen the Northern lights making a red and green dome above us near Andøya in North Norway once (no street lights) and in January in Tromsoe Norway, greening up the sky in that eerie way they have.
Sorella