.
The Sun is life
but goes down into the dark
of the earth
and the sea
at night, to sleep, to dream
one needs the protection of an animal
companion. The night time sun
like a lamplight weak in
the mirror tunnel that leads
to the north, the abode
of the restless ghosts,
reflects the power of the need.
At the end of the tunnel, where Jaguar
leaves you, a door
opens, and you emerge
into a room
where curtains are blowing
in warm radiant white light.
but goes down into the dark
of the earth
and the sea
at night, to sleep, to dream
one needs the protection of an animal
companion. The night time sun
like a lamplight weak in
the mirror tunnel that leads
to the north, the abode
of the restless ghosts,
reflects the power of the need.
At the end of the tunnel, where Jaguar
leaves you, a door
opens, and you emerge
into a room
where curtains are blowing
in warm radiant white light.
Jaguar (Panthera onca), Edinburgh Zoo: photo by Pascal Blachier, 2007
Jaguar: Moche figurine, northern Peru, c. 300 A.D., Larco Museum, Lima, image by Lyndsayruell, 2007
Jaguar: Moche figurine, northern Peru, c. 300 A.D., Larco Museum, Lima, image by Lyndsayruell, 2007
White curtain in warm light: photo by Christoph Michels, 2006
12 comments:
Tom,
Beautiful, posted here just 8 minutes ago. Here sun is visible as faint white disk in the fog. Clear earlier, as it was getting light, planet up there visible for the first time in days and days (of fog). That whiteness of egret yesterday (something) like a "warm radiant white light" (in light of this). . . .
7.15
first grey light in sky above black plane
of ridge, silver of planet beside branch
in foreground, sound of wave in channel
in the world that took place,
circumstances prevented
the eye, viewer who looks at,
distinction compared to
sunlight slanting across fog on ridge,
whiteness of egret flapping toward it
Steve,
I wait in eager anticipation of, bask in and remember the radiant light you bring every morning, fleeting gift from
the eye, viewer who looks at
(The Mayan jaguar myth reminds us that the arrival of the light in the morning is something that should not be taken for granted, it's a new ballgame every time.)
Both these poems are very special to me and raise my day to a different, higher plane. (I also wait each morning in happy expectation of learning what Steve has seen and how he's seen it and I remember it all day.) I didn't know the Mayan jaguar myth, but now I do and I couldn't agree more that each day is and should be seen and experienced as a whole new ballgame. One funny thing about raising a child (now almost a teenager) is having conversations about things like this, which I do frequently when Jane has the blahs and blases. (Sorry, no accent aigu on my keyboard.) The first thing I needed to do this morning was to drive a fair distance to be fingerprinted, which I found sort of exciting. The technology has changed completely -- no more ink! Now onto the next tasks, which will not live up to the fingerprinting, I'm afraid, but I know life's not all cake. I think Power has the power of myth and could be read and remembered that way.
Jaguar was the great power, the god who gets the people through the World Night.
Panthera onca (the animal) however has lost much of its power in recent centuries as the population has declined steeply and worrisomely.
In his night aspect the Jaguar appears here.
Not too much was said about that at the time but over the past year the post has proved, in some sort of inexplicable sub rosa manner, the mode and meaning of which baffle me, the most popular item in this gallery. (An esoteric big cat cult, we have sometimes speculated?)
When the power of the sun leaves on our own, it is nice to think we have such a fine and mighty animal to protect us and accompany us. I was not aware of the Mayan myth either, Tom. Thank you for sharing it with us =)
I need this BIG kitty to purrtect me!
meeerrrrooow!
looks like jaguar left you b/c he wanted to take a nap! hehe.
Tom and Curtis,
Thanks for such thoughts (or might I say affirmations) arriving through thickness of this morning's fog. . . .
Well, that big cat DOES look sleepy... but through the dense morning fog I can hear soft footfalls... pad, pad.
And hear them still through THIS morning's fog -- pad, pad, pad, pad. . . .
Beautiful, beautiful ... the quality of dream, close cousin of myth, simply wafts over the reader.
Where the Jaguar leaves you ... we have all been there, in that room, eh? Radiant light, no sound. Our arrival, our departure.
Home.
Don,
Yes, they are indeed close cousins, or to use the term of Keats (To Autumn), "bosom friends".
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