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Rite of Passage
Posted: 03 March 2009
Word Count: 88
Summary: A new version of a poem I wrote several years ago.
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Rite of Passage
Late in an autumn day, when even on this hill
the air is still, I wait. Northeastward
the city shines, but I turn toward the land.
The nearer stands of grey or lichened beech
recede to distant blue; then the level sea.
In my head I hear the tide. Now ghosts
are gathering here; I am expecting them.
Stock-still in the sober gateway of death
they linger, looking back; like me
they cannot cease to see the drowsing sky,
the sweet horizon tipsy with bramble-mist.
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Comments by other Members
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 V`yonne at 22:17 on 03 March 2009
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A stilll and compelling place of in between, of half light and changing season - I loved the | horizon tipsy with bramble-mist. |
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and the contrasting | the sober gateway of death |
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 FelixBenson at 11:40 on 04 March 2009
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I agree with Oonah, compelling sense of an inbetween place...Especially these disquieting line in the very centre of the poem of life and death.
In my head I hear the tide. Now ghosts
are gathering here; I am expecting them. |
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This is rather beautiful too:
. Quite uplifting to imagine all these figures turning to look at the same beautiful horizon.
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 tinyclanger at 12:21 on 05 March 2009
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This is so lovely and contemplative..words and phrases that create a mood, a real atmosphere which I was experiencing as a sensory thing. 'Sober' is the word, yet rich, too. And gentle - with words like 'level', 'still', 'recede', 'drowsing'.
You say it's a reworking, James - might you have put the original up on WW - as I find something familiar in it? Like it's a place I've been to before, almost!!
The last line is a real tour-de force. Gorgeous!
x
tc
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 James Graham at 16:05 on 06 March 2009
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Thanks to all. tc, it's in the archive - 'Strathclyde Suite' part 3. Part 2 is 'Tribe', now published as a separate piece.
James.
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freynolds at 10:00 on 07 March 2009
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I can hear both peace and torment in this poem. Majestically composed, a troubled serenity comes through.
I have also looked at the archived version (part 3) and there is part of a line I like there;"where the land falls away." It evokes both the end of the land falling into the sea and life slipping into another world.
Very inspiring work!
Fabienne
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James Graham at 21:29 on 13 March 2009
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Thanks for your comment, Fabienne. 'The land falls away' I like too - but it will have to stay in limbo, I'm afraid.
There's a curious thing about the last line - it really did seem to compose itself. No thought went into it, it simply 'appeared' in finished form. I wonder if other WW poets have had that experience? All my instincts are against 'automatic writing'; there must be some semi-conscious thought process going on. But sometimes a line or an image seems to arrive out of nowhere.
James.
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Tina at 09:36 on 15 March 2009
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Hello James I know I am late to this but have been having a bit of a break from poems and posting and perusing ( as you know!)
I like the lingering nature of this - the way the writer and then the reader are held in time - in a vacuous moment - absorbed by the scenery and the memory and the time. I especially like this:
Now ghosts
are gathering here; I am expecting them.
Stock-still in the sober gateway of death
they linger, looking back; like me |
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the sense of hovering between two worlds and yet being part of both of them. I too like the last two lines and absolutley know what you mean about lines composing themselves! In a very slight way though they are almost too good/ too rich for this poem which is about greys and half greys and pink greys and fading light - just a thought!!!
Really enjoyed thanks
Tina
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