Without a Word, an excerpt

Word

If only I could get into their minds, get to their words, since I cannot leave this chair to accept their offering.  If only I could understand, could know exactly how they color me, color themselves, then maybe…

Light

If only I could crawl behind their eyes and see what it is they select for their minds, select for the feelings that flow from their senses beneath their soft white skins.  The feelings that build and subside like ocean waves.  Together we could ride those waves.  And in this togetherness we could create a life for the ocean, a level for its motion.

Word

We would ride those waves as I do now, alone, in dream…Imagine – floating on top of the surf that rises, in rhythmic, undulating changes.  Rises to meet the white sky.  And as it descends, the sky is cast with the color of a prismatic sunset.  But now, in this space, my thoughts sink through coherent light, falling lower and lower into my darkness, searching for a semblance of time.  And as it sinks, my mind tells me that there is no connection.  That my thoughts cannot be theirs, even in word, in knowing, in screaming…for my scream is silent.

Dream

Space sinks in mink like a semblance of screaming connection, like a silent thought that falls to meet a final word, the word that sinks in sunset

Their my sinks in thought like darkness, searching the silent light for connection, for semblance like a scream searching for space

My mind sinks, searching for connection, searching for the light of thought in space, lowering the scream into a final, knowing heart

The connection sinks in word, a final, even darkness as in my heart a sunset screams for light, searching for a silent knowing

Shadow

During dream, shadow moves across the stage using her/his arms, in almost a swimming motion, reaches the door, and claws it with his/her hands like a dog paddling. 

Mirror

The door opens, mirror appears with a mask painted with the colors of a sunset.  Mirror rocks head back and forth a few times, then slams the door.

Shadow

 Shadow rolls back to the rug.

Word

Oh, that door…

Dream

That door that door that door that door that door that door that door that door

Word

Thoughts and visions

Dream

Thoughts and visions thoughts and visions thoughts and visions thoughts and visions

Light

Thoughts come in vision. 

Word

That’s it!  What is known is know through vision.  I take it from me, and give it to their words, so that they may have it.  But how do they take it?

Dream

Take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it

Word

Take this silent offering that screams in word.  How can this window be?  When what I see within, they see without.  Without me, but with me.

Shadow

Shadow stands and begins to shuffle in circles.

Dream

Within without within without within without within without within without

Word

I am within, I am without.  Here in this space, now looking to see the vision welling up inside in waves

Light

I see it, I feel it, I understand it, I know it, I take it, I give it, they see it, they feel it, they take it, they give it…

Word

Yes, I dreamt it last night.

Light

I dreamt myself sitting above a massive white sphere, with color revolving, the color mine, evolving around it.

Word

And in the dream I reached for the color and as I reached and touched, the color entered me, entered my body and rushed through my veins like a surging stream.  And as the color took shape in my mind, the shape of a million faces, color poured out of my eyes and returned to its orbit around the sphere.

Shadow

Shadow approaches the door in circular steps as dream:

Dream

I you he she it we you they I you he she it we you they I you he she it we you they

Mirror

The door opens, Mirror appears wearing a white, circular mask painted with orbital colors.  Shadow and Mirror meet in motion.

Dream

Me you him her it us you them me you him her it us you them me you him her it us you them

Mirror

Mirror recedes, the door slams.

Shadow

Shadow returns to rug in circular steps and stands while dream:

Dream

I me you you he him she her it it we us you you they them I me you you he him she her it it we us you you they them

Word

But what if…loathsome chair, I am not a child again.

Dream

Am am not am am not am am not am am not am am not am am not am am not

Word

But what if…

Artwork Robert Parker    Many thanks.

Excerpted from Without a Word by Molly Brogan

A Glimpse at My Upcoming "Early Poems"

If Love Is

If love is, then,

A meeting

And a meaning,

Just one meaning,

One shared meaning,

Then listen gently

To the sound

Of its tender sigh,

Its soothing,

Wind sung note.

Do not look for words,

But the low

Plaintful moan

Of lovers’

Sweet release.

Drink it as I do

With no thought

Before

Or after.

Nip the cool

Sensation

Of hushed

Wet gasps

That echo

When lips meet

And mean

The warmth,

The oneness,

The fusion.

Excerpt from unpublished Early Poems
Artwork by Moira Marshall.  Many thanks. 

Wedding Tribute

-->

All I know of angels

I can see in your eyes.

The deep blue of heaven

Moves me like the sea.

Lifts me up with wings

Of unending possibility,

Into the depths of my soul.

Your love guides and protects me

Like a steadfast guardian,

Sentry at the threshold of my fear,

Banishing all potential harm

Allowing light and love to fill me,

Your golden glow surrounds me

Like a pocket of tender safety.

Your hands reach out to me

And reveal your sacred gift,

So simple and so elegant,

Merely all that I AM

And all that I can be,

Because you love me enough

To let your eyes lead the way.

And so my humble heart opens

And reaches for you in kind,

With an overwhelming desire

To move you completely,

To move you with me in tones,

In the rhythm that is ours

And ours alone.

Within that glorious rhythm

We connect to all creation,

Your angel wings enfold me,

Your gentle spirit infolds me,

And we become the divine creator

And all that is our good experience,

In truth, in love, in faith, through you.

--  Molly Brogan

Love as Becoming

Anonymous said...
A beautiful expression of love as emanation.

I would like to thank this anonymous viewer for this comment on my poem. It got me to thinking about emanation, or the unfolding principle, the outflowing from the source of creation. To me, this statement speaks to love as becoming in ways that completely connect us to all of creation. How wonderful.

The expression of primal urge into an emanation is also conveyed in one of my favorite James Russell Lowell poems, The Vision of Sir Launfall:

“And what is so rare as a day in June?

Then, if ever, come perfect days;

Then Heaven tries Earth if she be in tune,

And over her softly her warm ear lays:

Whether we look or whether we listen,

Every clod feels a stir of might,

An instinct within it that reaches and towers,

And groping blindly above it for light,

Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers.”

Keep the Spirit Alive

Robert said...

I thought about this (Logos), and decided for myself that it simply means the spirit of the word. This I can get my head around. Thanks Molly.

Thank you, Robert, and all my readers and supporters. You keep the spirit alive.

Logos Moves Between You and I

Robert said...

"We are the writers, and the readers and the stories and the Logos."

What do you mean by Logos?

Through this Word – Logos – all things became. In it was life, the light of human beings. It shone in the darkness, and the darkness received it not. It was in the world, and the world did not know it. It entered in individual being and, to those who received it, it gave the ability to become children of God. Its radiance was seen, full of grace and truth.” – Georg Kuhlewind

In Carl Jung's analytical psychology, the logos is the masculine principle of rationality and consciousness. Its female counterpart, eros (Greek, love), represents interconnectedness. I think the term is really both.

To become aware of Logos is to become aware of logos in ones self. Logos shines through the visible and invisible alike. It is the light in relationship between persons, between words and meaning, between God and man. It is the knowing that you are. The speaking and knowing to what you are speaking … is logos. It is a living, present truth. What man cognizes, what is communicable, is the world. That man cognizes, is Logos. It is brought into meaning and passes between. This world exists for and through the knower, through Logos.

Thanks for the question, Robert. Molly Brogan
Artwork by F. Rassouli