WINTER DREAMING
I am still forming,
I am not yet myself,
but I dream a lover to come—
someone who will know me
from the left side,
someone who will remember my eyes
from a place where people spoke differently,
someone who will call me
white moon and lotus,
the one who dances in my heart.
People now say what I do is dreaming,
and useless.
But I say winter dreaming keeps me on earth.
We ourselves are a dream of the earth.
She filled us with her mind.
And I am dreaming a life to come
as she once dreamt mine.
—Harriet Ann Ellenberger, 1990
Oh Harriet, this is so beautiful and so full of truth – we are a dream of the earth
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I don’t know where those words “dream of the earth” came from; maybe they were a rescue-line from the cosmos because I was in a perfectly wretched state when I began writing that poem.
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I have read this piece a number of times and am struck how beautifully it resonates with the winter solstice that comes tomorrow. All I can say is please keep digging through those journals… no wonder you are not writing now – you have too much past material that needs to “come to light” – I am going to include this poem in my ritual.
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I love it when a poem becomes part of a ritual. And I think I just made another WordPress fumble by posting your three comments in reverse order
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Oh I forgot to add that the picture is just perfect – the snow on the lens gives the whole scene an otherworldly sense.
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Mr. Bear took that photo the first winter we were here, and it remains one of my favourites too.
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Wow Harriet, it sounds like the poem itself healed you a little bit. How wonderful that earth dreaming would fill your heart.
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A poem is such a little thing (you can read this one in 90 seconds), but the journey of arriving at the final little thing is full of weirdness and surprises and, you got it, wonder. Must be the journey which keeps luring me on because if I look at poems as products, so sorry, they’re puny compared to what it took to make them. Which is pretty weird in itself.
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Some lines have a specificity that lets us see something in the speaker:
from the left side
from a place where people spoke differently
But I say winter dreaming keeps me on earth
and the last 4 lines never sit still for me, like air, water, earth, fire breathing
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“Winter Dreaming” literally came true seven years after I wrote it. so it has remained one of my favourites, even though it mystifies me, what happened during the writing. I inadvertently slipped between worlds, or times, or something … accidentally wandered into a parallel universe, maybe? Anyway, you’re right, the last four lines never sit still, and I don’t know why they’re so alive. But they always make me feel good.
.
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Your writing takes my breath away
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Thank you! I hope that’s a good thing.
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It most definitely is an extremely good thing and testimony to your gift ♡
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Have just been reading new poems on your blog … and I very well remember your poem that was published in “Trivia” … you inspire me. And that’s an extremely good thing too.
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