Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Caught Between Impossible Questions and the Wild Blue Sky of Day (1982)



Looking back at these drawings from 1982, what a shock it is to add up the years and acknowledge that nearly twenty-five years have passed. Seeing this chalk pastel drawing after so many years, at first I couldn't remember the title I had given it.

What is coming out of this process of retrospection is that I am remembering how much I have forgotten. As I looked at today's image, I thought I would have to give it a new name, but then the words "wild blue sky of day," from a poem I had written in the early 1980s, came back to me. I couldn't remember the title of the poem but knew where to look for it and found that it was titled "A Nation of Sleepless Woman with Moon and Birds." The last two lines were the title I had given to this drawing.


A NATION OF SLEEPLESS WOMEN WITH MOON AND BIRDS

Awake and alert
As full and fragmented as the moon
Rising and reflecting
In a western sea
We hear night birds
Singing in the shadows
Mocking darkness
Mocking darkness

The moon asks an impossible question:
Do I control you
Or do you control me
In my circular journey

We ask the moon an impossible question:
Do we control you
Or do you control us
In our cyclical journey

We hear night words
We sing in the shadows
Mocking darkness
Mocking darkness

Imagine us at dawn
A nation of sleepless women with moon and birds
Just above the hills of childhood
Caught between impossible questions
And the wild blue sky of day.


Sometime in February I will be coming to a drawing/painting I did which I called, "Woman Trying to Remember What She is Trying to Forget." How could I forget that I am a poet, too?

3 comments:

robin andrea said...

You remind me of a time when I worked at a Women's Health Clinic, specializing in hormone replacement therapy. We worked almost exclusively with menopausal women. I often answsered the phone, only to hear the familiar lament-- I spent the night awake, I can not sleep. I once fantasized that I would start a phone tree, where sleepless women could call each other, and talk through night, through the moon, talk to change the world.

I love the title "Woman trying to remember what she is trying to forget."

Thank you for writing such thoughtful comments on our blog. I love what you add to the discussion.

am said...

And to think that I wrote that poem I was in my early 30s and had no idea that one day the whole generation of us would have sleepless nights not only because of the stresses of the times but because of menopause. I like your image of sleepless women talking to change the world. Thank you and Roger for creating a place for good discussions.

Lori Witzel said...

Another post that's like coming across a warm campfire after a long wander through chill night.

And thanks so very much for linking -- I'll do the same this weekend, I want to be sure to remember to stop by!