(Originally posted on LiveJournal)
Several years ago, I had a dream that had very vivid imagery … of the end of the world. I suppose it should have been a nightmare, but there was a curious detachment in my brain’s reaction to it all. The detachment made me suspect that the imagery was more a spiritual assault from outside than something dredged up from my own subconscious. But really, how can one “prove” that sort of thing?
In any case, when I woke in the morning after the dream, the oddness and vividness of the dream was such that I wrote it down in my journal. And not long after that, turned the extraordinary imagery into a poem.
I figured I’d post that poem here, rather than with a fancy background image on my website. Just because I find the process of getting to the poem interesting, and possibly worth discussing. I mean: intense dream, to journal, to poem. Turning the subjective personal experience into an objective work of art for others to partake of. If “partake” is the word for reading and reacting.
Anyway…. The poem follows. I’d be interested in reactions in any way. Having now the distance of years from its writing, I can look at it a bit more objectively.
WORLD WITH END
I stood beneath a greening yellowed sky,
alone within a frightened, trembling crowd,
a restless mass which had no place to run,
as all locations now drew to their end.
No drowning rain would end the world for us,
the radiance and radiation fierce
blown from the sun would break apart our world.
The speeding sibling planet, Mercury,
the dying star already had consumed,
as if devouring orbiting off-spring
could long delay its own drawing demise.
That world was gone. The knowledge filled our minds
as wonder, fear and terror raced the wind.
Our eyes turned upward, there to see the fate
of the next planet. Through some vision strange,
the Venus-shape was clear in that wild sky,
the sphere a darkened disc, which to our eyes
was near. And as we watched, large fragments broke
away around that circle’s fraying edge,
the chunks of mass held in by gravity
although the streaming sunlight fingered through.
A moment did the fragments circle round,
a deadly darkened necklace for the core,
and then the planet’s heart exerted force
and pulled the crashing masses into it.
One instant, falling inward, to compact,
and then exploding outward in a burst,
but not of fiery brilliance, only dust,
the lifeless dust of matter blowing free.
That fabled, shrouded planet was no more,
and with our eyes we’d watched our coming doom
for none could doubt that our own earth would die
just as we’d seen the Venus-light destroyed.
Fear filled their hearts, and I could hear their grief
that nothing would remain, no blade of grass.
The folly of the human race they knew
and thought that if the world should ever end
destruction’s wave would roll from human hands,
and when the world was purged of erring life
the world itself would still go on alone.
A consolation, small though it had been,
that something still would stay, of earth remain,
was cast away in Venus-dust. They wept,
a bitter raging weeping at world’s end.
As for myself, no tears of mine did fall,
alone within that weeping, grieving mob.
I looked above and wondered at the power,
the inexpressible creation’s might.
How vast! How awesome! Far beyond the reach
of my mind’s comprehension! And I knew
the ending of the worlds lay in God’s hands.
My heart flew up, as if to sail on wind,
a dancing kite upon the breath of God.
I raised my voice to praise the mighty Lord,
from whom all blessings flow to us below.
My voice sang strong, and I could feel the crowd
with halting sounds turn fear to praying songs.
Praise Him! Praise Him all creatures here below,
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost aloud!
The earth had started shaking. Twice the song
was shouted at the sky, an urgent plea.
I shook my head. Could they not see God’s hand
had closed upon the frame of matter here?
Why would they want to keep this world they knew,
when for our souls a glorious home did wait,
not seen by earthly eyes, but hidden there
within the heart of God, our gracious Lord.
The shaking stopped, and tears of joy did fall:
perhaps the earth would not crumble apart.
I could not share this thought, for clear to me
was how the weight of glory’s coming hence
would crush the fragile bonds of matter’s form.
As if a sign of preparation grim,
the moon rose from the west, a blackened orb
to cross before the face of the fierce sun,
and deepening the eerie sunlight’s green,
cast an eclipse upon our upturned brows.
No consolation there, our friendly moon
stood riddled through with holes, sun-acid scarred.
Fear ruled the crowd again. No true-home this,
though much beloved, earth: I yearned for God,
and sang loud of that place where we shall come,
our race completed, to our homeland true.
The face of God will shine more constant fair
than this stark, world-consuming star. My home
lies there. How can I stop the songs which rise
within? The beating of my heart will not
in silence end its task. Before the end,
the breaking of the world, my song goes up.
And then full darkness fell. The veil of clouds
was stripped away, and all could see the stars
so clear and bright, the dazzling display
of all creation’s glory, never seen
as long as earth’s air-shell had hugged the world.
The end was near, and silence claimed all life.
And where the border fell between the worlds
I do not know, for I looked on God’s face.
Comments
sartorias – Jan. 15th, 2008
Lots of vivid images there!
scribblerworks – Jan. 15th, 2008
Really vivid indeed. The end of Venus in particular (very dream like knowledge, to know it was Venus we were looking at), and the rising of the Moon, from the west, riddled through with holes like Swiss cheese – those were intense.
Like I said, it should have been a nightmare.
sartorias – Jan. 15th, 2008
But it has that whole The Last Battle under-structure to keep it from being nightmarish, or at least so I perceive.
wild_patience – Jan. 15th, 2008
That is just stunning. I loved it.
scribblerworks – Jan. 15th, 2008
Thank you! It’s one of the things I love about being a writer/artist – turning odd dreams and things into “art”. 🙂
