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Monday 15 November 2010

Aspects of Creation : according to the Aborigines - and me.

being a response to Jingle Poetry's prompt of Moods, Feelings and Emotions.

In the beginning Earth was flat and featureless,
devoid of interest, of life or consequence.
And then there came the Dreamtime,
a great age of change, when giants rose
up from the soil to roam the land.
Half human and half animal, they wore
the natures of the beasts and birds, but acted
in a wholly human way, and set out for all time
the way the Aborigines would live their lives.
They camped, lit fires, they dug for water,
fought each other, hunted, killed to eat.

When finally the Dreamtime reached its end
a moment shrouded in great mystery,
the great, half-human heroes had to go,
their time was up, but as they went,
wherever one had left his mark, a feature
rose up from the land to say he had been there.
A watercourse, a tree, a mountain. Every
artefact the Aborigines enjoy was left to them
by those of old. And more: their laws and customs,
memories, all given. Each one absolute.
As in the Dreamtime, so it still must be, they say.

It happened, though, that in the early days
there came two skyfolk from above to hunt.
They moved in silence, setting traps and tracking prey.
In doing so, they came upon a man
and woman making love - or trying to.
A passionless performance doomed to fail.
This so disturbed them that they took to studying
the Aborigines at work and play, and came to see
that these earth folk had two emotions only: rage and fear -
the two that babies still exhibit in the cot.
Enough, no doubt, for their survival, but insufficient
to guarantee their race into the future.

And so the skyfolk donned their fearful aspects,
striking terror like a flame into the hearts
of men and women. Two beside a lake
they took, rigid in their arms, and flew,
first high above a mountain range,
then on, beyond the desert, to Woomoombo,
a volcano, very large and fiery, then in full eruption.

They flew into the crater, down amongst the spewing
cinders, very near the flames, until their captives
could not breathe. In mortal fear of their two captors,
they faced an even greater fear, that of nature
at its angriest. Unknown to them, within their souls
a tiny portion of that early fear had broken off
and from it awe had grown. Next thing, the sky folk
carried them away to a deserted island.
There they showed them passions greater
than they'd ever known - and in their new-found
awe they were both thrilled and terrified,
a state in which they saw for the first time this thing
called beauty manifest itself in beach
and tree, in sea and distant mountain.
And so it came to pass that a full range
of human feelings and emotions came to earth.
The last act of the skyfolk was to give
them music, art and poetry, a soil in which
to nurture their new feelings.

Haiku #310

To be in the mode
think about your third wardrobe -
a choice of night attire


David Cranmer said...

Impressive, sir. Impressive. Heck, I would have accepted this at BEAT to a PULP.

Anonymous said...

this is nice david..

Helen said...

This is a masterpiece ... I can hear it being read by someone with the strongest, most melodious of voices. It deserves to be heard!

Night attire! As wardrobe, love it.

Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis Hall said...

lovely piece,
you have wealthy knowledge and abundant expertise in portraying feelings, nature, and more in beautiful senses.

Thanks for sharing your talent with potluck.
Happy Monday.

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

Fantastic job! I have to admit that I am a sucker for mythology, and this was just an utter joy to read!

Anonymous said...

This is fascinating, David--quite reminiscent of American Indian creation tales. It brings home how much alike we all are. Thanks for commenting on my poem.

Anonymous said...

great piece. reminds me of c.s. lewis. nice job!

Windsmoke. said...

Fantastic story about the Dreamtime mixing fact, fiction and fantasy.

Linda Jones Malonson said...

A good creation piece that sounds slightly familiar. I enjoyed the read.

signed...bkm said...

Wonderful piece on creation and the Dreamtime....and the birth of emotion and art...I love myth and tales and you did an excellent job here would love to hear it out loud....thank you..bkm

Dave King said...

For a long(ish) time now, I have been toying with the idea of a series of poems, each one devoted to one of the Aboriginal myths. Your remark rather whets my appetite for doing so. Thanks.

A warm welcome to you and many thanks.

My thanks for a very generous comment.

I was rather amused by the night attire remark.

And thanks both for the comment and the prompt. The latter did its job wonderfully well, though I had several false starts and so found myself rather short of time at the end.

Shashidhar Sharma said...

Dear David
A beautiful story told in a beautiful way... thanks

ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
Twitter: @VerseEveryDay
Blog: http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com

Dave King said...

Welcome and much thanks.

Hi and welcome. That's very flattering comment. Thank you for it. I, too, have always found mythology to be fascinating.

I couldn't agree more. Enjoyed my visit. Thanks for the feedback.

Hi and a warm welcome to you. Thanks for commenting. I think I see where you're coming from with that remark.

Many thanks for the feedback. Always good to have.

Hi and welcome to my blog. Many thanks for stopping by to comment.

A very warm welcome to my blog and much thanks for the valuable comment.

Dave King said...

Good to have you aboard and good to have your comments. Thank you.

CiCi said...

Gads, Dave, this is awesome writing. You really have many talents. I am so grateful for having found your blog and have been enjoying your poems, art, writing immensely.

Anonymous said...

This is an epic poem. The flow through out the whole piece is consistent and strong - which is amazing because of the poem's length. I love the description of the aborigines and their environment.

Dave King said...

Thank you for the compliment. It's good to have you visiting.

Hi and very welcome. Much thanks for visiting and for stopping by to comment.

Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis Hall said...

thanks for linking up with potluck.


award/treats for you. smiles.

no poem is perfect, be proud of what you have done.