Free Verse
Ondine
Ondine...you are untamed
Tonight
A yielding Lover….You held me long before I was born.
Speak to me with the language of Dreams
A Mystic Bridge between the Light and Mystery.
You Summon….then RAISE
The Storm,
the War
and the Distance between two colors
Naked in your Beauty only in the darkest of Nights …
with no will of your own
let flow the Waters of Life against the Sky...I am soundless
Gray
as you rise from this ocean…a
Myth…then a Woman
You do not choose to create or destroy
but Heal with a cold and wicked heart.
I am Criminal…Suspect…Always in chains…the fury of creation
In the waters that give life.
Your Dance hidden, The Song unheard My prayer is silent
against empty Cathedral Walls
Of your Bones.
I suffer your Love and become immortal then die in your
memory
I am Reborn again and Again…Creating Myself from the Ashes
Then leaving only Ashes
You do not give
Birth...but only plant the seed by casting
the dimmest of lights,
against the waters,
against the shadow that is me.
Author's
Note on the Composition of "Ondine"
For the poem I
used the title "Ondine" A water Spirit.....legend has it
that she isT a free and loving Spirit but without a Mortal
soul...but to gain one she has to leave her Waters...but she
doesn't simply leave the waters...she is pulled from them by
the man fishing...exploring the deep waters where she
hides...she has to come out into the light of day...the man
who had reached so far down into the waters sees her but can
not understand her beatuy......she falls in love with this
fisherman...marries and a child is born of both of them (the
Spiritual, Her and the Mortal, The Fisherman)...but then she
becomes mortal also...and begins to die...
That strikes me
as the way any work of Art is Created....the Muse has no
soul, is formless in the waters of our soul...and at times
hides deep with the waters of ourselves...that Mystery
within each of us...she/or he...is formless
creation...chaos...
the Art, that Child, lives in the Infinite....WE pull Ondine
from those waters...we love on an Artistic level...it is a
love that there is no word for......we become one...she
gives Birth to our child...a work of Art...but the work then
becomes Mortal...the moment we create it...it becomes
finite...no longer infinite...it begins to die...no work of
art lives forever...so I wrote these words....Now I am not
saying this is how it works for us all...but for me...yes.
View the Haiga version of Ondine
