I absorbed the riot of imagery and then I read your reply to Jed and wondered if I had understood it correctly...perhaps not. And yet it resonates and in such beautiful language and style pushes the question of what happens next... will we be scrubbed clean into love - or not!
Thanks. Love "riot of imagery." Whatever meaning you got from it is what it says to you. The surface of this poem is that in Christian fundamentalism there is still the idea that you only have a chance of redemption while you are alive. Once you're dead, you can no longer be redeemed...
In my comment to Jed I was referring to the subtle....threats? commentary? The idea that you cannot have paradise unless you enforce rules, to not accept fire, which is a reference to the Christian Eden in a way, also to constantly pledge to uphold the ideal of peace--we must forever have our guard up, even in heaven.
I am so glad, Jed. I don't want it to be too harrowing, I'll take relaxing anytime. And I wonder if anyone not raised as we were will catch all the meanings.
I absorbed the riot of imagery and then I read your reply to Jed and wondered if I had understood it correctly...perhaps not. And yet it resonates and in such beautiful language and style pushes the question of what happens next... will we be scrubbed clean into love - or not!
Rajani,
Thanks. Love "riot of imagery." Whatever meaning you got from it is what it says to you. The surface of this poem is that in Christian fundamentalism there is still the idea that you only have a chance of redemption while you are alive. Once you're dead, you can no longer be redeemed...
In my comment to Jed I was referring to the subtle....threats? commentary? The idea that you cannot have paradise unless you enforce rules, to not accept fire, which is a reference to the Christian Eden in a way, also to constantly pledge to uphold the ideal of peace--we must forever have our guard up, even in heaven.
Love the imagery here, Rebecca. It never ceased to image me what you do with simple words, my Dear friend ❤️
Thank you, darling N.
newborns, bistros, eagles, kangaroos, opera singers, elevators, ballerinas, petunias, mimes, monkey-faced pansies, concert halls, and long-abandoned churches...
Reminds me of the list of everything that floats from the holy grail movie where the Pythons compare the witch to a duck...
For all its sort of gruesome texture Rebecca, this was a relaxing read for me. You are in the flow, my dear.
I am so glad, Jed. I don't want it to be too harrowing, I'll take relaxing anytime. And I wonder if anyone not raised as we were will catch all the meanings.
This is fire. Rebecca, you’re in Substack poetry’s upper echelons. Comfortably.
Thank you so much, Ian. I think this is an important piece to share with everyone. I've been trying to get outside myself.
The imagery written here is simply breathtaking. I loved reading every word!
Thanks so much, June! So much.