The Night Dancers
(a 55)
The song dreaming night
is a film over the world
hiding a thousand dancers
painted with
the blood of the moon.
They hum
as they spin, but
I never hear them speak.
Dawn's claw-hammer
beats them to dust
leaving a flicker
of chamomile and orange,
ghost breath of a
performance
seen best
through
mist-green glass.
January 2022
posted for
Images: Blond Nude With Orange,Blue Couch, 1925 © John French Sloan Fair Use
Glasses, author unknown, via Sunday Muse Fair Use
You have made us see the night in a deeper way Joy, giving it a life and movement that is wonderful and real! I love this gorgeous 55! So glad you joined in this week!! ( I love that painting too!)
ReplyDeletebeautiful melding of the night dances seen through mist-green glasses
ReplyDeleteDawn's claw-hammer
beats them to dust
a potent and powerful couplet which is still ringing in my ears!
"Dawn's claw-hammer / beats them to dust" Oh yeah!!!! And then the dust of dreams color the sunrise. Wonderful.
ReplyDeleteJoy, it reads like a spell.
ReplyDeleteOh my on:
"leaving a flicker
of chamomile and orange,"
so vivid and full of energy
That is the most original, most bring-you-up-short description of dawn I have ever read. I so relate to this, as I love my sleep and the sometimes deliciously out of focus, marvelous world one finds there. Your dream singers go about their work unseen and seemingly doomed, but remain what they are, whether seen or doomed or not, and for that--among other things--I salute them, and you, for bringing these ephemera into view for us, even if only for a moment.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the insight,dear friend. I'm always glad when you find something you like in my work.
DeleteBreathtaking poetry Joy ... through mist-green glass ~ would it not be wonderful to view life through it's prism.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Helen. Glad you liked.
DeleteWowzer. I try to write dreams down if I remember 'em; the more I write down, the more I remember: But the waking glass I see 'em through is ever opaque, as if Someone has been careful to hammer them flat with my opening eyes. I think the real poetry hums between nothing and night suggestive of a tongue we can't recall. Great 55 Hedge.
ReplyDeleteYes, exactly. They hum in a language our waking ear can't quite catch, at least, like translation, with the same nuance. Nonetheless, we still write them out. Thanks for reading, and for all the night music over the years,B.
DeleteI love the idea of those nighttime dancers. To me, they look like Sufi dancers, circling in joy, tranced and momentarily lifted from the turmoil of the world. I may have to give it a try, though I am already dizzy enough, on any given day. LOL.
ReplyDeleteHa! I know what you mean, Sherry. Thanks for stopping by.
DeleteThe stars dance with the moon and night brings dreams that sometimes disappear in the morning light. I have been studying dreams for many years and keep journals as I usually remember my dreams. At night when I am dreaming and something unusual happens, I make a mental note in my dream to write it down, but something is lost in the translation in morning light. Dreams speak in mysterious ways the dreamer is left to decipher the meaning.
ReplyDeleteA vision that feels both glorious and dangerous and that image of dawn shattering it is visceral, like coming out of a book or driving out of a heavy rain.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Chrissa.
DeleteThe hidden world.
ReplyDeleteWe know it's there..
we sense it..
.
https://soulfluff.wordpress.com/
ghost breath of a
ReplyDeleteperformance
seen best through
mist-green glass
Love the twist to the real thing Joy! Things can be camouflaged and may not show the defects through misty glasses!
Hank
Well I watched the dreaming night video, although I couldn't find my mist green glasses. I lent them to my nephew and that was that. I wanted to dance like that--ya know in the midnight hours etc. Problem was I never took a dance lesson and 244 pounds don't dance well (unless you're Joey Bag of Donuts.
ReplyDeleteYou know Joy I can see every dawn break because of my sleep schedule--sleep during the day then ride the nighttime hours.I am constantly aware of the things (like the dawn) which can allegorically break up the start to my day. Built a cave to ease the transition from midnight to morning.
It is a great poem Joy, the words create the movement of the nightly dance and the sorrow of the coming dawn--although I do like the flicker of the ending--not chamomile though here--coffee, caffeine powers the morning and it's just fine.
Thanks,Mark. My mind is all.that dances these days, and it also is powered more by caffeine than chamomile. ;_) Always good to hear from you, my friend.
Deletethis poem feels like the moment i wake up, and i know i had a really weird dream, but i can't remember any of it, i mean nothing but the impression of something wild and beyond reason, but my mind is blocking it, as if say you "you really don't want to know", it just vanishes that fast. great song dreaming joy
ReplyDeleteLove the painting, the dreaming, and the mist-green glass, which for some odd
ReplyDeletereason, made me think of Absinthe.