Apr 9, 2012

I is for Igloos - an Alaskan poem

R.G. Cantalupo

Perhaps merely the idea of whiteness draws us,
the way the white lines, the fissures of ice, the made structure itself disappears inside

the silent depths. Or perhaps the way the wind dies down to a muffled growl as we slip inside the white skin of bear, the belly of the moon.

Or the way we are left then with only language,
our voices heard in the white dome of the cosmos,
our stories flickering in the fire; left with merely

these shadows written on the walls of snow.
Here, the trick of permanence. There, the illusion
of stilled water, the gift of holding river and storm

quiet in the rough texture of our hands. No day
now. No night. The vast turquoise sky not changing
to a black mask pricked with eyes. Out of the flames

gods come, spirits, ghosts bearing visions and old battles. Out of the white nothing, we create the living light, the universe of blood, a new world.


Kyra Lennon said...

That's so beautiful!

Cordelia Dinsmore said...

Thanks for posting the poem. I really loved the peacefulness of it.

KarenG said...

I read a book some years ago about Eskimos and ever since their culture has absolutely fascinated me.

Nice to meet you, and I hope you're enjoying the Challenge!

A to Z Challenge Host

Lynn Proctor said...

what a lovely poem

elizabeth seckman said...

Such wonderful imagery.

Kimberlee Turley said...

Oh that poor daffodil. Luckily they're pretty hardy.

Sylvia Ney said...

Wonderful! New follower here. I’m enjoying reading my fellow “A to Z”ers. I look forward to visiting again.


Lisa Regan said...

Beautiful! I really enjoyed that!