Buffet the crossed wings of the face-barred falcon,
Closed tight over his crown,
Tight against the cruel wind,
The keening world.
Eyes that have seen too far, too fierce, too keen,
Beheld white fire masquerading as inviolate truth Complete,
Feeding from its own flame,
Eyes that have seen too far, too fierce, too keen,
Beheld white fire masquerading as inviolate truth Complete,
Feeding from its own flame,
Reflection
Burned, burned, burned,
Are hooded and blind.
No prophecies are scried, no magic glanced;
They are not filled with the white sharp edge of the sun's light
That comes searing in and binds the lidless eye
And coils the fire-mind.
The falcon's head lifts, its eyes craving roseate dawn,
Not the black-iced pain of night.
A scream is cast into the maelstrom and torn away
Like a tongue that cannot talk of truce.
Would that a fleet curved wing
And the pained yearning of a fierce heart
Would soon carry a pilgrim, steeped
In the sadness and the madness,
Back to the great Axis of Life.
(c) Tales of Seamus 2011
Are hooded and blind.
No prophecies are scried, no magic glanced;
They are not filled with the white sharp edge of the sun's light
That comes searing in and binds the lidless eye
And coils the fire-mind.
The falcon's head lifts, its eyes craving roseate dawn,
Not the black-iced pain of night.
A scream is cast into the maelstrom and torn away
Like a tongue that cannot talk of truce.
Would that a fleet curved wing
And the pained yearning of a fierce heart
Would soon carry a pilgrim, steeped
In the sadness and the madness,
Back to the great Axis of Life.
(c) Tales of Seamus 2011
I'm completely lost here... Sorry, I don't get this one.
ReplyDeleteIt's an extended metaphor about the suffering following a mania which is accompanied by black depression also. It's like a scream.
ReplyDeleteRight... Trying to see that.
ReplyDeleteHow would you describe these lines:
A scream is cast into the maelstrom and torn away
Like a tongue that cannot talk of truce.
It's what is going on inside: Screaming is futile, it makes no imprint on the maelstrom - the storm is too big - this is the feeling of rage and impotence. The scream is torn away by the storm like a tongue being torn out making the agony wordless and mute, there can therefore be no talk of a truce, or respite. But it's a simile, the voice does remain and continue talking.
ReplyDeleteHope that elucidates a little!
The imigery is strong, but I had/have trouble connecting the dotts.
ReplyDeleteFalcon is defending his honour/mind from the 'keening' world of screams, while coming to terms that the sight he once thought of as magic and prophetic, is really blind and untrue. The falcon is then awake, longong for the cold night to end with the warmth of dawn, and that's where the scream is cast away, but the voice remains - so, does the voice still trouble the mind that the sight (just mentioned) is magic and prophetic? Or did I get that all wrong?
The end I thought I really got down, but now I'm not so sure:
Would that a fleet curved wing - I assume the same wing mentioned at the begining
And the pained yearning of a fierce heart - we talked about the role of hear in other posts, so I'm reading this as your love for yourself longing to get it right
Would soon carry a pilgrim, steeped - 'pilgrim' with prophecies creates an image in my mind of a person who is in search for the truth
In the sadness and the madness, - but the pilgrim is fighting, or is burdened with the 'sadness and madness'
Back to the great Axis of Life. - and, to me, this is a return to some point where the confusion did not exist?
How am I doing in my attemt to get this?
You are doing very well! The great Axis of Life is the centre - normality - and the Sadness and the Madness are depression and mania.
ReplyDeleteAnother key point is that having a fierce heart is not enough - you need a lot of help, medical and otherwise at different times and need an overall care program which has not always been forthcoming at all - happily things are better now.
I like this poem because it lets out a lot of feeling via the imagery.
Well, that's the main point, that you feel better having written it. And I'm glad I got it, at least to some extent.
ReplyDeleteI got the metaphor immediately.
ReplyDeleteInsightful immersion into mania and the rest periods. Those brief moments of clarity.
Another wonderful and beautiful poem.