Friday, April 10, 2009

Good Friday



It is Good Friday, and on this full moon, one feels exactly as if he himself were in Garden of Gethsemane.
Christ in the garden, and T.S. Eliot too, though it might just be mid-life crisis.But did Eliot ever have one for all time!:

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth

This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Bless├Ęd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.


.................

Oh, "leave us not to be separated...."
...But what does it matter now, that one is over the hill, and it might not be so much them, or it or her that you miss, but your own soul catching up with your body.

One is certainly in some sort of quantum state here on this full moon. Not in the Garden of Gethsemane and the agony there, but in some sort of transition state between the tomb and ascention.
Quantum state. Do not touch me! Between the subjunctive and the indicative, unformed quantity, and changing, given to chance, and then the leap.

Robert Bell:
First, no amount of success can heal a person’s soul. In fact, success makes it worse… If you have issues around your identity, those issues will not go away if you “make it”. They will be there until they are hunted down and identified and dealt with. We often live under the illusion that when we reach that goal and complete our mission, those issues that churn on the inside will go away.

But it’s not true.

Says Ivan, "But it is true. I know it from experience. There was a time when it waa all together. (But as for right now):

- This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks


........

Says Ivan again:

But there was a time when the path was pure. He had fought his way up the mountain and down the plain. There was a reward. He had met the One.

Marriage was the Garden of Eden.

Yet that Adam's Apple. Can it be that plain?

Again:

This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks


Eliot wrote of Ash Wednesday. But it is already Good Friday.

##

16 comments:

Charles Gramlich said...

"Three dreams cross between blue rocks." What an evocative phrase.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Yeah, Charles.
We used to think Eliot was a boring old prig at university! Friggin' callow kids.

Midnight said...

The fury of your dreams, perhaps suggests, the Woman, who may wander, into your life, and deliver, a beauty, you have always imagined, but have quite, never seen.

Wicked. In all Her Glory.

Donnetta Lee said...

State of limbo is life. Many of those dreams were nightmares. And so says Dark Donnetta!

Lighter note-I love Eliot. Those words, those words. Give color back to the gray world. D

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Donnetta,

You dark. :) Eliot does lighten.

Lana Gramlich said...

If it's any consolation, the Full Moon was roughly 11pm Thursday night, actually. ;)

Mona said...

between dying and birth...falls the shadow...

this is the way the world ends...not with a bang but a whimper....

Christ illustrated that on the cross...

ivan@creativewriting.a said...

Lana,

That sucker stays full for about three days.
Hemingway: Black Dog!

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Mona,

The Christ principle seems very evident.

benjibopper said...

sometimes an apple looks just like a georgia o'keefe painting. And she lived until she was 98. Painted until the week she died.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Keep it up, I guess.

Georgia on my mind.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

In the distance dear Ivan I carry a light and with that light ... hope.

Soft love,
T

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Says Carsson McCullers,
The heart is a lonely hunter.

the walking man said...

If my life be lived between the dusk and dawn so be it. The gray is still illuminated with color as I approach each new sin.

ivan@creeativewriting.ca said...

Matthew Arnold says (maybe like an Eastern European?): It is sin that keeps away the sweetness and the light.
But I say no. Quantum leap.

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