Learn More

Gwen Harwood

(8 June 1920 – 4 December 1995 / Taringa, Queensland)

The Glass Jar


To Vivian Smith
A child one summer's evening soaked
a glass jar in the reeling sun
hoping to keep, when day was done
and all the sun's disciples cloaked
in dream and darkness from his passion fled,
this host, this pulse of light beside his bed.

Wrapped in a scarf his monstrance stood
ready to bless, to exorcize
monsters that whispering would rise
nightly from the intricate wood
that ringed his bed, to light with total power
the holy commonplace of field and flower.

He slept. His sidelong violence summoned
fiends whose mosaic vision saw
his heart entire. Pincer and claw,
trident and vampire fang, envenomed
with his most secret hate, reached and came near
to pierce him in the thicket of his fear.

He woke, recalled his jar of light,
and trembling reached one hand to grope
the mantling scarf away. Then hope
fell headlong from its eagle height.
Through the dark house he ran, sobbing his loss,
to the last clearing that he dared not cross:

the bedroom where his comforter
lay in his rival's fast embrace
and faithless would not turn her face
from the gross violence done to her.
Love's proud executants played from a score
no child could read or realize. Once more

to bed, and to worse dreams he went.
A ring of skeletons compelled
his steps with theirs. His father held
fiddle and bow, and scraped assent
to the malignant ballet. The child dreamed
this dance perpetual, and waking screamed

fresh morning to his window-sill.
As ravening birds began their song
the resurrected sun, whose long
triumph through flower-brushed fields would fill
night's gulfs and hungers, came to wink and laugh
in a glass jar beside a crumpled scarf.

So the loved other is held
for mortal comfort, and taken,
and the spirit's light dispelled
as it falls from its dream to the deep
to harrow heart's prison so heart may waken
to peace in the paradise of sleep.

Submitted: Friday, April 20, 2012

Do you like this poem?
2 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Glass Jar by Gwen Harwood )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  2. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  3. The Saddest Poem, Pablo Neruda
  4. Leisure, William Henry Davies
  5. A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
  6. Invictus, William Ernest Henley
  7. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  9. A Life-Lesson, James Whitcomb Riley
  10. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost

Poem of the Day

poet James Whitcomb Riley

There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your doll, I know;
And your tea-set blue,
And your play-house, too,
Are things of the long ago;
...... Read complete »

   

New Poems

  1. To her...., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
  2. Sunset Couple Time, Saiom Shriver
  3. Waiting On Nothing, Kyle Schlicher
  4. Cut Myself While Shaving, Kyle Schlicher
  5. The Basket Weavers, Holly Wotherspoon
  6. Eternal Life, Michael P. McParland
  7. Enriched, Michael P. McParland
  8. Christmas Lights, Meriam Joseph
  9. 12/12/13, Andy Sayasone
  10. Endless Deep Beauty, Michael P. McParland
[Hata Bildir]