All The Lost Words

On By Mick CanningIn poetry, words, writing

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Last night I dreamed I sank into the depths of some great ocean.

I went down, right down to the bottom of the sea and

There I saw a wooden chest.

And then a mermaid appeared and smiled, and indicated

That I should open it.

 

But having done as she had asked,

I thought at first I had made a mistake,

For I beheld countless stars shining in the depths of the chest,

Which appeared to be as large and as wide as the sky.

And even as I thought this, those stars rose up and surrounded me

And then, dismayed, I saw them floating up until they reached

The surface of the sea,

Where they were taken by the tides and currents

And swept away to every corner of the Earth.

 

***

 

When I awoke, I felt sad for the loss of those stars.

But then I realised it had been a dream, and

I fell asleep again and dreamed I laboured down a mine.

And I was hot and weary and grimy as I crawled

Through low passages, searching for precious stones.

It was tiresome work but finally,

Rounding a corner, I saw a distant glow and

As I drew near, I saw a gem that shone amidst the darkness.

I found then I carried pick and hammer, and

Any number of chisels, so I set to work.

 

After much labour I held the gemstone in my palm and

The light from this treasure seemed to flow out from my hand,

And illuminate every corner of the mine.

This gladdened my heart, but one appeared who I had been dreading,

Although I had not known it until that very moment,

And they took the jewel from my hand and disappeared,

I knew not where.

 

***

 

And so again I awoke and then

I slept a third time – troubled sleep! – this time

I dreamed I walked on crowded streets

And watched the many who surrounded me

And listened to their talk.

These were the conversations carried on

By every man and woman who had ever lived,

Or ever would.

 

But after time their speech became confusing;

I could no longer distinguish any words, and then

The world fell silent, although they still spoke,

And still I watched and found that I could see their speech,

And all their conversations floated on the breeze

Before me,

For their speech was made of stars and gemstones,

Mingled now with flowers and with ash.

Mingled now with night soil and with butterflies.

 

And I was content with that, and now slept deeply.

 

38 thoughts on “All The Lost Words”

  13. There is Reality there, my Dear Mick, particularly at the ending. But. Am still thinking how You were ‘content’ after finding the words/gemstones, ‘Mingled now with night soil…’ …At Peace, maybe? 🙂 Regards.

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  15. Visionary poem inviting the reader’s interpretation. There’s a width of experience in “Mingled now with flowers and with ash / Mingled now with night soil and with butterflies.” Henry James said, ‘Tell a dream and lose a reader” but I stayed happily to the end. What does HJ know! 🙂

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  16. Ishaan Sharma

    Wonderful poetry.
    This makes me think. Are we just foolish to be worried by possessions and materials? Dreams are real while we are in them. What more can we say of life?
    As either Aristotle or Plato (Not sure which one) once said, years from now there shall be a great awakening. And we shall see that it was all a dream.

    Just some random thoughts.

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