Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
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| Clock of the Académie Française, Paris Andre Kertesz (1932) |
She has gathered pigeon feathers
from beneath the clock tower
where they lie scattered like little bits of wind
or piled in iridescent drifts
beneath window arches and cornices.
Now she is weaving them
into a mantle of bright shadows
pinkened down, tealed plume
pinions of smoke and ash
to cloak her frailty
in a cloud of dull light.
He is keeper of the clock
winder of coils and springs,
inspector of the great hands’ slow toil
and pendulum’s swing,
who has measured his life
in gradations of the hour; all that is circadian, mute.
Now he is peering down at the world
but all he sees is time
in the painstaking march of tired feet,
a minute too late to contemplate heaven
and the last angel
dwindling from grey into blue.
Camera FLASH! in the Imaginary Garden.
I enjoyed your write.
ReplyDeleteMy goodness this is absolutely exquisite! 💖 Especially love "Now she is weaving them into a mantle of bright shadows pinkened down, tealed plume pinions of smoke and ash to cloak her frailty in a cloud of dull light." 💖
ReplyDeleteThe last three lines are so important here - how we waste time or how we use it is all in the eye of the beholder.
ReplyDeleteThe end is especially powerful-- faith can only take one so far, so fast. One feels very sorry really for those that try to weave things out of pigeon floss! In the face of something so inexorable as time. The end brings up the fact that angels also are feathered creatures. Thanks, Kerry. k.
ReplyDeleteI like reading of the clock keepers of old. Movies too, though we don't attend many. We did watch "Hugo" a while back, about a boy who volunteered keeping a Paris Gare (I've forgotten which one but I've likely been there) station clock, and more. We liked it.
ReplyDelete..
What a powerful ending to a beautifully descriptive poem.
ReplyDeleteWonderfully done, Kerry. I especially love the woman gathering pigeon feathers to weave ..."to cloak her frailty".
ReplyDeleteall that is circadian, mute.
ReplyDeletethe image of someone collecting feathers to weave a new cloak, (loved your word choice "mantel") a dull but iridescent one nonetheless makes me stop - and think on the layers you've presented here - "mother of pearl springs to mind" colour wise - and yet, for all the efforts? time wasted or chased, and yet choices to move, to slip into a gown, as another on high, watches from behind the face - yet another facade - for who is the true keeper of time?
I like the images you've chosen and the ideas just teasing themselves out, so slowly drawn ... teasing, fleeting, dashing, begrudgingly given, taken, stolen - time - and who is to say when it will be done, finished ....
and circadian - wow - great interjection to allow for us to stop and consider - how out of touch are we ... with time ....
The quote from The Little Prince goes so well with image and poem , Kerry. I love the whole poem: the first stanza is completely visual, cinematic, and the second zooms in on the character. I especially love:
ReplyDelete'...they lie scattered like little bits of wind
or piled in iridescent drifts
beneath window arches and cornices';
'pinkened down, tealed plume
pinions of smoke and ash';
and
'but all he sees is time
in the painstaking march of tired feet,
a minute too late to contemplate heaven'.
so beautiful.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Kerry--and I'm not sure if that loveliness comes from the images or the thoughts behind them, which seem to hint at the ability of the soul to weave her own garments anew and anew, no matter how they are burned and torn from her, no matter what fragile materials she must use--and in the face of a weary, blinded, and seemingly deliberately chosen indifference. Or perhaps it is just a natural role for some to be circadian, and mute. Thanks for this, and for the inspiration your photo choice has brought us.
ReplyDeletePoignant and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThe pairing is exquisite -- two deities of time, perhaps, the world's and the mind's, natural and civilized. Could they be more opposite? That makes them two faces of the same pulse by which our hearts measure out time. Who are they? Gaia and Saturn? And how do they rule the engagement of all lovers? It so makes me think of my wife upstairs with all of her powders and perfumes and curlers and closet of everyday costume, and me downstairs pacing looking at my watch and shouting, honey we've got to GO ... Loved the piece.
ReplyDeleteYour interpretation really tickled me... and the Gaia - Saturn idea also has me thinking about the broader nuances here, more than a bit of magical realism. Bjorn mentions Quasimodo and Esmeralda. So the male/female dynamic seems very much in play.
DeleteI'll be by to read, even if I don't always comment.
ReplyDeleteSince I'm on hiatus though, maybe you can flesh out this word pairing.
you're familiar with the saying, power corrupts.
i came up with a corollary, or perhaps replacement
- power co-opts.
which it does. Look at how the Chinese assimilated their vanquished. How white America adopted blues and turned it into rock n roll. etc.
anyways, you're on summer holiday - you go for it! :)
It's winter holiday, friend. Blue skies and icy winds down here in Africa... and certainly familiar with power co-opting in my neck of the woods.
DeleteI shall give this some thought while you hiatus away your time.
;-)
well, see, i knew that, but my fried brain didn't put 2 and 2 together to make 12. so there you go.
DeleteWith the keeper of clock I couldn't resist thinking about the hunchback and Esmeralda... the opposites between the two persons create a tension that I really love.
ReplyDelete