(On the eve of a Solar Eclipse, I try to find
the hill from which I watched a Lunar Eclipse,
forty-eight years ago.)
I am driving in
West St. Paul
with a purpose
driving me: to find
the height in then Heights
that seems to be leveled,
or sunk in the ground,
or is just hiding from me
in an eclipse of my vision.
How much longer will I search?
Yes, this is the fabled hill
from which I watched
the eclipse of the Moon
by the Earth, which turned
the Moon a strange red.
No longer the pale, slender
White Goddess, the Red Moon
swaggered like one who had just
won power she intended to use.
I'm still driving
all these years later,
but I'm running out
of gas. Soon I will
run out of drive and
come to a full stop.
Then the delights if
walking will take over,
and I will slowly pass
sites of another age,
but still that lofty red
color of the Moon tugs
my memory, and beckons me
to further sights and deeper
memories. Does it matter my life
is now a valley life in terms
of vision? Soon I will see
the Sun eclipsed, and darkness
will possess the light, and it will
usher a new age of glory to remember.
Many currents run beneath the surface of this at-first-glance whimsical piece. That no matter how modern we are, fluctuations in the normal pattern of the universe's operations still touch us in a significantly visceral way. That a compelling idea which takes us can push us to actions beyond logical explanation; that spiritual and artistic concepts can trump intellectual rationale. That we enmesh the progression of our lives into the framework of the otherwise indifferent universe's machinations, making all of our known reality a clock which ticks away the particles of our life, divided into movements of the heavens and earth. An intriguing piece, Daniel, which delves deeply.
Very nicely said. Insights and visions even come to old men.
Very nicely said. Insights and visions even com to old men.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The sight of solar eclipse triggering memories n visions....narrated so beautifully. We, the readers, are driving along with you, thinking all your thoughts. Just beautiful. A10.