alskuefhaih
asoiefh

Monday, March 26, 2012

Poem: Out or In

-
-


Out or In

Here is a young tree
stretching its bark
in a new spring. Its
ghostly blossoms erupt
like longing, so small in the air
that you must hover close
to ascertain fragrance.

I have broken beyond
fences, with spirits
benevolent and not. Who can say
for certain which breed
kicks down the gate, and whether
I am going out, or in?


March 2012



the wedding plum

-
-


20 comments:

JeannetteLS said...

"Who can say
for certain which breed
kicks down the gate, and whether
I am going out, or in?"

This poem made me take a quick, deep breath. It struck a chord inside. Beautiful, but painful too. I love this poem. And then I saw the wedding plum photos...

Wonderful entry.

erin said...

there is a depth and complexity to this poem which feels just right and yet it doesn't sit upright like a statement, rather it leans with fresh life toward life in its longing, as we all do.

xo
erin

Maureen said...

Wonderful poem, Ruth. The line "I have broken beyond/fences" speaks deeply to possibility, which is taken up again in the question posed in conclusion: to be open to two paths.

Kathleen said...

Marvelous! Thank you. And I have been looking closely at the out or in buds, too.

James Owens said...

this seems to be the theme on blogs today. everyone is writing of transition, border, liminal moments of magic and danger. (perhaps it is the season, or perhaps i am only seeing myself reflected)

i've thought that marking these gateways, where the self might bloom or break (perhaps that is a false dichotomy?), is the primal function of poetry, a ceremonial speech to recognize and greet translation between states of being....

Pat said...

Your photo just took my breath away, as did your poem.

rosaria said...

A testament to the times, to the awakening and the mystery of life.

hedgewitch said...

The poet is joining the celestial version of the Wild Hunt, I feel, where in is out and out is in. Forgive the Lewis Carroll phrasing-- this is full of a sense of possibility, most fitting for the wild ride of Spring.

Loring Wirbel said...

The direct, minimalist nature of this one really appeals to me. A new Ruth favorite, I think!

George said...

Perhaps I'm too attuned to Zen paradoxes, but it may be that we must go out to go in—or, to paraphrase Eliot, it may be necessary to explore in order to return to the place where we began and to know it for the first time. Whatever the case, kick the gate down!

The Solitary Walker said...

You can't know for 'certain', Ruth — but trust in the tree.

ds said...

Oh, gorgeous, this poem in its deceptive simplicity! The essence of the season, and of the poet, testing herself. Gorgeous also the tree.
Thank you, Ruth.

GailO said...

I knew this was the wedding plum before I read it!:)

Spring is indeed a time for kicking and stretching!

rippleeffects said...

For some reasons, your poem makes me think of Robert Frost, guess subliminally it's the word 'fences'. And how apt, today (Mar. 26) is Robert Frost's birthday. The blossoms are herald of spring.

Jeanie said...

Perfect Ruth, for our in-and-out spring! SO, SO lovely! I think once we know it's really nice to stay, we must have that long overdue lunch on some bench underneath something beautiful!

Ruth said...

Thank you, dear friends. This poem did begin with Robert Frost, and his poem A Prayer in Spring
which was on Keillor’s Writer’s Almanac in honor of his birthday yesterday . . .

For this is love and nothing else is love,…

… he wrote.

Life is always erupting, and I don’t know what life is if it is not longing. Why do we survive year after year? What puts our feet down on the floor each morning?

Even one glimpse of beauty can convince me for another year. And then I forget. Then I am reminded again.

Sorry for my brevity and lack of personal responses. You are so dear to me! But my hands are like these petals, a bit fragile and windblown today.

Friko said...

a bit fragile and windblown . . . .

just like spring. Tender and uncertain, but courageous and determined as well. Like the blossom, like your poem. Like spring, which is taking delicate steps towards fulfilment.

Margaret said...

That last line is perfect... as is the last photo. Well done.

The Solitary Walker said...

"I don't know what life is if it is not longing." Me neither.

Ginnie said...

Ohhhhhhhhhhh. The wedding plum tree. Look at how it has grown and flourished! Will little James one day be able to climb it, I wonder?