Monday, August 05, 2013

The Hollow Places

That hollow place in you
Left hollow
When something you love has gone
When someone you love has left

Don't let it be filled in too soon
Or with just anything

Keep it open

Don't put a fence around it
But don't let it be filled in too easily

Let it be

Sometimes in the forest of the heart
A pine grows, sometimes a saguaro
But both are trees of the oldest Tree
Whose roots bind yours to
The root of the world

And sometimes the dark hollows
Are not a hole of what has been
Lost or gone missing
But a well

A well soon filled from below
By a flood, slow at first rising
Of black water shot with silver stars
The waters of the power under life
The creative force that drives the wold
And waters the roots of that same Tree
In which you yourself are rooted
Wellspring and branch and solace

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Blogger Jim Murdoch said...

Nothing particularly profound to say about this piece other than it’s the poem of yours that I’ve enjoyed the most in a long time. I often struggle with your notion of spirituality but here it’s not laboured. I particularly like the fact you turn the hollow into a well; I’m not sure I would’ve gone there and the hollow metaphor is one that I’ve returned to many times (especially hollowed out words) but I like it. Very good. About as far from the notion of conceptual poetry as one could get, eh? (I’ve yet to read your article so bear with me there.)

5:38 AM  
Blogger Art Durkee said...

Thanks, Jim. It is rather more your "kind" or "style" of poem, I know. Not something I do very often.

The hollow becoming a well is a very very old Celtic image, actually. But then, that's one of my deeper spiritual roots.

12:33 PM  
Blogger Art Durkee said...

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12:33 PM  
Blogger Art Durkee said...

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12:34 PM  

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