Attempts on Poetry

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Dream Fragment 30/11/2022

N- 47

Climbing the winding staircase

– a Jacob’s ladder or a Yeats’ gyre –

Dangling in the void entropic space;

Shifting shapes eternally, assuming aspects dire:

Of Gothic aspect once, stairs of a solemn tower

A wooden creaky stair, for woodworms to devour

Now made of twisted roots, of Nature overgrew

At last, a more familiar tone, a form of which I knew.

Familiarity brings a blissful smile; but with a tinge of fear.

Reaching its peak, slowing my step, I'm blindly drawing near.

Shimmering room of bright delight a Turner would portray,

And there,

not of tiredness, but exultation dear my consciousness gives way.

And sprawling on the wintry floor

Shivering;

and yet elated and content,

Found in the warmness of her bosom

Forgetfulness and nothingness and death.