Perspective

A different thought stream and perspective to my poem 'Animate objects.'

Unlike the seemingly 

unbending structure 

of a century stood bridge,

I bend, grow old; 

which is a strength

iron does not possess.

Nor will it ever, because

although it exists,

it can only function

under instruction. 

It cannot see the horizon

be equally loved and lonely;

hear the farm dog bark,

or observe the morning mist

that shrouds its silhouette.

Nor can it ever despair,

which is a strength

I do not possess,

or would ever wish to;

it simply stands.

Sometimes though, at least,

I imagine this to be true,

it can feel the vibrations that 

course through its carbon content.

Though not so much as I do,

which is quite understandable 

given my content is higher,

my awareness heightened

by a knowledge of where

heaven and earth embrace.

Still and all, if only for a moment

I would like to be a bridge.

To span chasms as yet uncharted,

Instruct myself to observe the 

comings and goings of my species

through different eyes; peruse

the motion of the tide at leisure.

As chilled with dew, I shiver

in a silence made more still

by a suddenly observable 

early morning mist;

when the ghostly glide of a 

hunting owl among my buttressed 

cables, is one of the most beautiful

sights a bridge will never see.

Reviews

[gram linski]

thought the personal perspective of the bridge was a great idea, Beccy,, you draw the reader in with some fine imagery, thought the last 4 lines were class, the bridge might never see the owl, but might feel the changing air current at the buttressed cables, great poem,

[R.E. Ray]

Perspective is informed by human senses, and those are strengths bridges and mechanical devices do not possess or need. We're gifted with senses, and among the most valuable perhaps is feeling. Not just on the skin but inside. The jolt of something larger and more powerful. It's exhilarating and terrifying. In the middle, is the peace knowing we can enjoy those natural things in our world.

Your last stanza is a desire we've all experienced, to be a machine or a supernatural mechanical thing, if only to bridge the gap between what we know and what we seek to know. I think this is how we came to sail the oceans on steel and fly on fabricated wings. We wanted to do something we knew the body couldn't accomplish. So, we put the mind to work. The mind is beautiful thing and it creates good things we can share, like brilliant poetry.

[CD Campbell]

Nature seems to forget you're around when you stay very still. I too see the strength in being very human and malleable. But hit you hit on something in the last stanza. To be a solid, inanimate, observing object for moment would be a eye opening experience. Reminds me of the story of the donkey who finds a magic pebble and turns himself into a rock when a lion comes over the hill and he can't return to being himself. The loneliness that ensues is heartbreaking. To be an immovable bridge providing a strong back without emotion is also desirable when things get tough. This is really a wonderful poem. My words can't do it justice.

[Dave Brown]

This is an awfully nicely done piece of original thought and work
I am not capable of doing this sort of in depth, meaningful type of writing which makes it even more impressive to me and unlike too many offerings, it is readable and understandable.
Many owls in the woods behind us which enhances your image of the owl in the mist.
An overall impressive offering

[Terpsichore]

I like the way you open our minds to the thought that the unbending strength of a bridge, in the same way a closed mind can be, is actually a weakness. That we need to always keep an open mind, that a refusal to do so, means we may never witness the 'ghostly glide of a hunting owl,' which is a brilliant metaphor in itself, as is the line, 'to span chasms as yet uncharted.'

Yes, we do bend, grow old, despair, can be equally loved and lonely at the same time. But I consider they are the things that make us human, and I for one, would have it no other way.

T

[Eilis]

I love your idea that bending and growing old are human strengths as expressed in the poem. Thinking of bridges and how long some of them have been moving us across those spans of water. They age differently and can be repaired and outlast us if properly cared for. But they can’t experience the fullness of life that we do as movers over the breadth of the earth.

So, in that context, as expressed by your poem, our aging is a grace and sign of the grand journey of being human which offers so many opportunities for growth that are unavailable to the inanimate things.

But still we have a desire to experience their stillness and single purpose. And also to inhabit them and, maybe, let them feel the grandness we feel at the wonder of existence. That beauty and mystery of the owl at the end says it all. Flight juxtaposed to groundedness. The soul can be two things and inhabit two worlds, in a sense. And transfer the glory of imagination to those things that are ignorant of love, loneliness and despair.

Just a super poem, Beccy. Our power to think and interact with our environment is indeed a strength and grace.

[Beccy]

thank you for your lovely words Eilis. Always I appreciate the depth of your thoughts.

[lakinbob]

This is high class fare beccy, and always there is more to your poetry than at first meets the eye.

The strength of iron is nothing compared to the power of human emotion, and that second verse for me is truly outstanding writing; as are the last four lines which conjured up the most incredibly haunting image in my mind.

You are so darn good.

[Beccy]

thank you. glad you enjoyed.

[andrew mitchell]

This is one of my favourites of yours beccy. Love the imagery almost left me in a daydream stance visualising the mists, the river, the bridge- all just delightful.

[Beccy]

Thank you Andrew. My son Charlie is doing a school project about the work of Brunel, and he chose to focus on the Clifton suspension bridge as his main subject of engineering interest. I visited the bridge as a youngster and it is in the most beautiful setting. Charlie's project sort of got me thinking and almost before I realised, I had written this poem. I have promised Charlie we will visit the bridge so he can see for himself.