Friday, January 28, 2011
Partage Du Matin
Both the title and reflective image of a woman that Marie-France creates in her beautiful painting, "Voyage Immobile" inspired this poem. I thought of a poetic lady looking through her window at the sky and stone wall in the distance. She reflects on one of her favorite plays by French playwright, Paul Claudel. Her mind envisions the rock-built fence as the side of a ship's deck, a pleasure boat from the early part of the 20th Century. And she becomes one of its imaginary passengers observing the moods and habits of those characters from the drama, Partage de Midi or The Break of Noon.
In his famous work, Paul Claudel examines the complexity of human nature interacting with opulence, passionate sin and malaise. His characters not only cross over the international dateline while at sea, but also the boundary of temptation. My title,"Partage Du Matin", refers to that morning divide between dawn and midday, routine and retreat. The speaker is fascinated by the opulent life aboard ship and becomes a witness to the intrigue and adulterous flirtations. Yet, she feels isolated from the characters, apart from the action and confident she is blessed with a good and true husband. Her presence here is simply diversion's luxury, an indulgence in morning reverie and speculation. As they cross the meridian, she twists her wedding ring and returns to reality. She knows her husband is building a trellis for them in the garden and calls him in for breakfast. The simple but ritualistic act of grinding his coffee and peeling oranges becomes a pleasure, a testament to her happiness and delight in serving a partner who equally serves her. This outshines those sparkling trays of champagne; and she understands that her marriage has been a voyage of cherished years and mutual sacrifice.
The cohesive force in this poem that connects land and sea, dream and reality, is the presence of the blackbird. Poised on tangled vines, he welcomes the light and watches its intensity bloom into that illuminated window of imagination. When the wife debarks from her mental journey, he flies off, startled by the sound of hammered nails and signals that morning has resumed its normal routine, time is no longer suspended by thought.
Partage du Matin
(Traveling in modes of thought)
Besides the blackbird poised
on tangled vines that net
a flash of sun --
there is the east window.
* * * * *
This window with its shutters
open, launched for daylight,
views the sky and stone
wall changing to the side
of a ship's deck
that hosts the shuffle
of chairs and cards.
I am already there
sailing on Claudel's cruise
into the South China Sea.
I wear pearls and smile
confident my husband is loyal
while most characters cheat
gambling with a sacred trust.
Their noonday sun
is so hot that shadows seem
like stains of cardinal sin
on their nautical white
cuffs and pleats.
Champagne glitters
on silver trays. We cross
the meridian
into the next day, another scene
of decadence -- but I
twist my ring
as if turning a doorknob
and resume life in our Summer home.
* * * * *
The curtains ripple, full
of your shadow in the garden
and light hammering of nails.
A bird startled
and our trellis nearly built,
I call you in
for breakfast, grateful
to grind the coffee,
to peel cold fruit
for a man I love
so much more
than on the day I wove
orange blossoms through my hair.
_________________________________
Note -- The lovely painting is called "Voyage Immobile" by artist, Marie-France Riviere. More of her evocative work can be seen here -- www.griviere.com/expo2000.
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