staring through the glare, she is there. and she shines.
The title line is a poetic fragment.
It is driving me crazy. The fragments of poetry flitting in and out of my awareness as my preconscious processes and propagates the phrase "she shines".
Who is "she"? What does it mean "shines"? Is she an abstraction, an amalgam, a prophecy or a singular woman from my past or present? Elements of the poems that are whispering themselves to me bear elements of any of several ex-lovers: Nancy's brilliance and grace, Jan's intellect and sense of humour, Ann's beauty and fragility, Brigit's charisma and cunning, Karla's vulnerability and talent. All goddesses, all. All shone (shined? did shine?) and shine on.
Perhaps I am just flashing on the whole. Or perhaps, perhaps I am extracting an archetypal menu for my next all-consuming passion.
Perhaps. Perhaps. But, regardless of what it means or how well I express it, she shines.
Whoever the hell "she" is.
2 comments:
~radiant smile~~
~just me
The written word is often read then "read into" and for each reader it tranforms into a different read.
Is "she" an individual, a collection of many? Should we worry about it? We'll all have our own opinion in the end.
I for one, only care that you, William, know exactly who she is.
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