April 24, 2008
-
Three Butterflies Dreaming
Three Butterflies Dreaming
Adrift…
yes, rudderless
on these turbulent seas
of delusion… calling… calling…
out to
the night
bring me safely home again through
darklit memories of
another day
now gone.
Confused
by emptiness,
we dream fast to fill it.
Reality expands dripping
wet from
the womb
of thought… an ugly squalling thing
loved for its novelty,
an ember soon
fading.
Dreams all
muddled, diffuse…
dimmed by the opening
of an eye. Which one illusion,
which one
a dream?
Reality, a scheme hatched by
a nightmare consensus,
reflects the days’
mirage.
Each of these three poems is a butterfly cinquain, hence the name of the poem. The three cinquains together make up a quintile, which is any collection of cinquains centered on the same theme.
April 24th
St. Mark’s Eve is a night for divining the future. A young woman
wishing to discover the identity of her future lover would fast after
sunset and make a cake during the night containing an eggshell of salt,
wheat meal, and barley meal. Opening the door to her dwelling place,
her future husband would enter to turn the cake.
According to folklore, the ghosts of all men, women, and children destined to pass away in the next year could be seen floating by on this night if a person were brave enough to spend the night awake on the front porch. If they were unfortunate enough to fall asleep during the vigil, or if they failed to repeat it annually for the remainder of their life, they would not wake up again the following morning. Doesn’t seem quite worth effort, does it…?
This is Children’s Day in Iceland.
Comments (2)
I’m giggling at the Godsmack. I’ll have to switch to the other radio station the way home
You are always educating me.
Thank you.
I believe everyday should be children’s day