Saturday, August 23, 2008

BardBliss: Shadow Dancing

A glad from the yard.

Listening to: How could I resist a song titled after one of my favorite books?

Today's Bliss Formula: It was supposed to be HOT, but it's not -- thank you, Weather. It seems like a good day for chasing poems with butterfly nets.

Shadow Dancing

In our attic bedroom, door
shut, hoping my absence
was not noted,
with quietly whispering
music and just enough
light to leave my shadow
on the wall,
I would dance.

As I watched myself move,
I imagined crawling into the wall,
and disappearing; I imagined
no longer being
able to hear my life but through
some transubstantiation
going from solid

to image and idea and
gliding softly
through and down
the outside of the house
to the moonlit earth beyond
the train tracks
beyond the city limits to
a field filled with

dew tipped grasses and finally
coming to float as a reflection
of the night sky on
a breeze rippled
pond, the water my skin
and the air my voice.

In the bright of daylight,
I would find a tree and sway
underneath her in the shape
of her leaves and branches

and as the sun set
I would grow long and
thin until I had stretched myself
to a high, jagged, cliffed coast
off of which I could

propel myself toward
the tip of the crescent
moon and lay back,
spooning until she became
fat and full and
I could melt
into the features
of that distant face.

When I grew tired
of even this shadow self
I imagined resting
forever on the dark side,
free from the heat
of my previous life.

--christine c. reed


Anonymous said...

That pink in that gladiolus is perfection!
Liked the poem as well.
enjoy your day.

dhyemm said...

Your poem makes me think of Astral Projection, a course in which a good friend recently loaned me. I am thinking of giving it a try. It will be weeks and/or months getting through the energy work but your poem does give me images with which to guide my travels some day.

ecoyogi said...

That is a beautiful, vivid poem. I love the movement in it. And I love Virginia Wolff too (ref. to in the music selection), especially To the Lighthouse. Glad to hear it's dear to women still when it was written in such a different time. The language still seems so modern.

blisschick said...

Huh, I never thought of the whole astral projection's funny how we can write something and not see what's there. Thus the need for readers!