The Dia of Gnosis

Somewhere in the back of my mind, 
comes the honey-bled answer of yes,
but not no.
	Waiting by the black forest gate,
without song or the speech of my elders
long gone
buried in the depth of wintry mud and clandestine of stars;
		paused with a chalk-mark I drew of the sun,
still there on the red brick of my life-long house.

Before we left and the curtains of memory were drawn.
After the doctor's appraisal
	that mind was enough
		just as you are, I am no different.
			A sunk arm in a bedroom of boredom,
and here I still sit with the query of health.

Be it after a life 	long-lived in worry, 
or found beauty in the love of trees,
	the calmest of sights,
	wherein you know 
			that the sun will still rise in the morrow,
and money matters less
than a pen to paper,
a phone-call,
a stinging tinnitus of the ear when all in knowledge is known
			may I finally rest.

Β© Eve Redwater 2012

34 thoughts on “The Dia of Gnosis

    • Hello Francis, not to worry! Sorry I made you ponder that! Honestly, it’s based on my life, yes, but it surrounds thoughts and feelings I’ve had in the past, plus experiences I’ve shared with people I know. It’s a collective of sorts. πŸ™‚

      Thank you as always~ x

    • Hi Debra, thanks ever so much for reading and leaving me a comment today. πŸ™‚ As I mentioned to Francis above, it’s a bit of a ‘pot-of-feelings’ type poem – as it were! x

  1. you write in truly fascinating ways….love to read you…

    A sunk arm in a bedroom of boredom—great line….

    i like the sense of peace at the end…i find that among trees often…and hte sun will rise…and money though needed is only so much…and knowledge, may we never reach the end of it…

    • Thank you Kathryn. πŸ™‚ Perhaps in death, yes. Also just finding that realisation, perhaps a bit of ‘enlightenment’ that things aren’t as bad as they seem. x

  2. Honestly, I’m just a lurker here. This is the very first time I put my comment. As an Indonesian, my English’s not good enough to write and to speak, but good enough to read and even to translate.

    I like almost all of your poetries. Reminds me of Pablo Neruda, Chairil Anwar, Garcia Lorca dan Sitor Situmorang. (Maybe you’d like to read one article about Sitor here ).

    Keep up the good works. You inspire me, anytime I come here, just like Andre Gide’s The Return of the Prodigal Son inspired Chairil Anwar, a greatest poet in my country, along long time ago. God bless you.

    • Hello Alex! Thank you very much for posting a comment, I’m really glad that you did! I think your English is fantastic!

      Thank you for reading my poetry, I’m really happy that it reminds you of those poets, it’s the greatest compliment you can give me. πŸ™‚ I hope to see you visiting again in the future!

      All the best,
      Eve x

  3. The form of this poem is so interesting…strange how poetry can be so visual in terms on how it lays ‘on the page’. But of course also in terms of the images it creates in each imagination that comes upon it.

    Yes, there is a sense of concern and even sadness, but the ending is so full of hope and faith. Quite wonderful, Eva!

    • Thank you! I’m glad that you got that feeling towards the end – I was hoping to express something like that! There’s something about juxtaposing a poem like this that can allow you express beats and rhythm that conventional punctuation is limited to. It’s fun to do both aesthetically and orally. πŸ™‚

  4. This, at least to me, belongs to the genre of portrait poetry that often is powerful. There is hope and great spirit reached toward the end of the poem even though the sadness of life is palpable
    After the doctor’s appraisal
    that mind was enough
    just as you are, I am no different.
    A sunk arm in a bedroom of boredom,
    and here I still sit with the query of health.
    This is wonderful poetry, filled with the kind of exploration and thought that the greatest poems achieve.

  5. This is a fascinating poem, Eve. It feels to be laced with some regrets and some sadness … but, having reflected on certain ‘big’ experiences, insight has dawned & made you a much richer person … though you still ‘sit with the query of health.’ I love the way you have put the poem together … it may be a ‘collective’ but you have created a quite beautiful ‘whole’.

  6. Your writing is absolutely beautiful. The vivid imagery and evoked emotions…I’ll just let all the other bloggers speak for me while I sit in astounded silence.

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