Sunday, February 12, 2012

God's Justice by Anne Carson

Red River Dragonfly photographed by me last year.

God’s Justice
By Anne Carson

In the beginning there were days set aside for various tasks.
On the day He was to create justice
God got involved in making a dragonfly

and lost track of time.
It was about two inches long
with turquoise dots all down its back like Lauren Bacall.

God watched it bend its tiny wire elbows
as it set about cleaning the transparent case of its head.
The eye globes mounted on the case

rotated this way and that
as it polished every angle.
Inside the case

which was glassy black like the windows of a downtown bank
God could see the machinery humming
and He watched the hum

travel all the way down turquoise dots to the end of the tail
and breathe off as light.
Its black wings vibrated in and out.

From:  “Glass, Irony and God” page 49


I recite this poem to myself whenever I'm feeling like disappearing and it hold me to this old earth.  I hope you all enjoy it and that life is treating you well.  Me, I'm trudging through that old slough of despondency once again.  Hopefully, this too, shall pass and I'll make it through to the other side yet again......

Peace, Love & Warmth & Shelter,


"Who, being loved, is poor?"  ~Oscar Wilde



ds said...

This is lovely, Marion. Thank you for sharing it; I am a fan of Ms. Carson--she defies categorization.
Hoping you make it through your "despond" wholly and soon...

Kelly said...

Amazing how often dragonflies appear in poetry! I can count on you to find them all and share them. ;)

Hope you didn't get too cold down there last night. We dipped into the teens!! Brrr!!!

Be proud of me - I've started my tomato seeds!

Snowbrush said...

"Alien being in a cat suit." Yeah, that fits.
Dogs are a great deal like little furry people, whereas cats are from an alien planet.

I loved the poem. I don't see dragonflies anywhere nearly as much here in Oregon, and I sure do miss them. I also miss the cardinals that probably enjoy eating them.

Snowbrush said...

P.S. I was admiring the painting at the top of your blog, and it hit me that, while no one would draw any conclusions about your sexuality from your use of such a painting, if I were to put a seductively posed and partially nude man at the top of my blog, a lot of people (maybe most people) would wonder about my sexual orientation.

Marion said...

ds, no matter how hard I try, I cannot find a word Ms. Carson's written that I don't just love. She's an amazing poet/woman. xo

Kelly, dragonflies jump of pages when I read, especially poetry. We're finally having some cold weather tonight, too. I love it. I'll have 3 blankets and 3 cats on top of me. Nice and toasty. LOL! xo

Snow, had I seen a partially nude work of male art at your blog I would think you were an admirer of good art and nothing more. I do think that the nude female body is the most beautiful thing God ever created and put a soul into and is to be admired reverently, of course. xo

Phoenix said...

A Message from the Wanderer

by William E. Stafford

Today outside your prison I stand
and rattle my walking stick: Prisoners, listen;
you have relatives outside. And there are
thousands of ways to escape.

Years ago I bent my skill to keep my
cell locked, had chains smuggled to me in pies,
and shouted my plans to jailers;
but always new plans occurred to me,
or the new heavy locks bent hinges off,
or some stupid jailer would forget
and leave the keys.

Inside, I dreamed of constellations—
those feeding creatures outlined by stars,
their skeletons a darkness between jewels,
heroes that exist only where they are not.

Thus freedom always came nibbling my thought,
just as—often, in light, on the open hills—
you can pass an antelope and not know
and look back, and then—even before you see—
there is something wrong about the grass.
And then you see.

That’s the way everything in the world is waiting.

Now—these few more words, and then I’m
gone: Tell everyone just to remember
their names, and remind others, later, when we
find each other. Tell the little ones
to cry and then go to sleep, curled up
where they can. And if any of us get lost,
if any of us cannot come all the way—
remember: there will come a time when
all we have said and all we have hoped
will be all right.

There will be that form in the grass.

Serena said...

Oh, my gosh, that little dragonfly is so incredibly beautiful! He looks like he's made of silver and gossamer. So gorgeous.

Wine and Words said...

Breathe off as light. That sounds like a healing exhale...something pent up. As the poem title suggests, I take it as justice. It is not ours to carry or measure or fulfill. We release such things for bigger Hands to weigh and carry.

Fighting despondency is the roughest of all gigs Marion. You know I wear my boxing gloves daily against this foe! I will loan them to you. I've been up since 1 AM, unable to sleep. Thought I might as well color my hair. Time to rinse.

Love you!

Ben Ditty said...

Aw, that was beautiful. It reminds me of Genesis. I was reading that last night. I'm not big on the Bible except that part.