Tuesday, November 15, 2005

The Wild Iris
by Louis Glueck

At the end of my suffering
there was a door.

Hear me out: that which you call death
I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.
Then nothing. The weak sun
flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive
as consciousness
buried in the dark earth.

Then it was over: that which you fear, being
a soul and unable
to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth
bending a little. And what I took to be
birds darting in low shrubs.

You who do not remember
passage from the other world
I tell you I could speak again: whatever
returns from oblivion returns
to find a voice:

from the center of my life came
a great fountain, deep blue
shadows on azure seawater.

Glueck is definitely the kind of poet whose poetry should be read more than once over. This poem came froma book that is filled other other poems like it, about flowers. I found this one especially interesting. The Speaker talks about death, but as I see it, it is the birth of something new. The initial darkness is the bud, or seed of a plant underneath the ground, the sun was weak and could not shine through very strongly. Then the plant starts to grow and comes out into the world. It is so bright that it is overwhelming for thelittle plant. It looks up and sees the azure sky. I relaly like how he writes in such contrasting ways.

1 Comments:

Blogger Esther said...

I have read this poem as well, along with the whole book that it is included in. I feel that if you just read this poem on its own and not the whole book, then you don't truly get the complete purpose of the poem. I see this poem as relating to a religious aspect and discussing the life and death with a Christian point of view. This poem is part of a series of poems that talks about the difference in choices pertaining to religion.

2:42 PM  

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