I watched a fly nearly buzz itself to death
against the closed half of my window.
Its salvation
so obviously close at hand
from my vantage point,
I tried to shoo it
in the right direction.
But the poor fly only battled the harder
to stay where it was -
battering the invisible barrier -
convinced now that it must get through.
I was threat, not deliverer,
that drove it to redouble
rather than reconsider its efforts.
For some minutes, we struggled -
I to free it; it to free itself
through the only means that it could see.
And, then, my hands and mind stilled.
Epiphany!
I have been that fly!
Blinded by my fear;
fighting all that tried to show me
that my path could never
yield the ends I sought.
And as I paused for thought,
the fly paused too - catching its breath
during the cease-fire.
In exhaustion, it lay against the pane -
close to the edge of its prison
yet universes away
from that understanding.
A small breeze blew in -
just enough to riffle its minute wings;
just enough, it seems, to show it the way.
And off it flew!
Oh, yes. I have been that fly.
What did you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
i often strive to obtain such an introspective point of view as this. the way you were able to capture the essence of that moment and knit it into such an intricate meaning is absolutely the best. i am amazed. as far as revision good, i'm sure it will get stronger in its deliverance but there is no way it will get better especially since it stands at the peak of profundity. you hve to be a intense and deep thinker to be able to relate a personal emotion to the situation in a manner that it evokes emotion from others. you remain on the top of the poetry heap for me.
-
The treasures of life, I think, are captured within the smallness of a single moment. We will always remember the large ones, the ones that impact us the most; Kennedy, MLK, Kent State – not just the bad , but the good, too. First kiss, childbirth, marriage, and the like, stay with us forever. But the small moment, to me, is where life surprises with its magnificence. When I become aware of how the door can turn so subtly upon its hinge, an etching of grace is indelibly marked, not upon my mind but my soul – where, tho I might forget it for a while, I will never be the same person because of it. A marvelous poem, dear poet. It is a delight to read your words once more. Blessing and best wishes.
-
Midway it took a turn I wasn't expecting. Nice.
I've been that fly too. No one can show us the way. We have to find it on our own, stubborn creatures that we are.
Desiree
-
It has been a long time since I have gotten the chance to peruse the remarkable writings of one Musestalker. You still have the ability to amaze. I am glad we have both decided to drop back in on the world of poetry at the same time so that I can once again enjoy your work. Great job as I remember. Write on, poet.
Blessings,
Myth
-
How often we are so franticly flailing against the barriers to what we want that we do not see the path that is open to the least resistance. I have been tht fly, too, and sometimes I get so perturbed at how slowly I come to silence and direction.
I wrote about a bird caught in our wood stove one summer. It had flown down the chimney! When I opened the doors it flew straight for the living room window and the light, nearly knocking itself senseless trying to get out. How sad... how sad I felt for it's panic and wish to soar in freedom.
Karen
-
Great images and epiphany. Revisions: I think the language can be tightened, particulatly in the mid section. Doesn't need too much - quite a rough draft! Buff
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
