Friday, November 06, 2020

Poetry Friday: A November Sunrise by Anne Porter


I shared an Anne Porter poem a couple of weeks ago and today I'm returning to her quiet beauty, so needed this week. 


A November Sunrise 
by Anne Porter 

 Wild geese are flocking and calling in pure golden air, 
Glory like that which painters long ago 
Spread as a background for some little hermit 
Beside his cave, giving his cloak away,
....

(Read the rest here.) 

~~~~~~~~~~

The Poetry Friday round-up is being hosted this week by Susan Bruck at Soul Blossom Living. 

13 comments:

Irene Latham said...

Thank you, Karen, for sharing this beauty.. .I am collecting words right now for possible 2021 OLW... "glory" pops out here. Thank you!

Linda Mitchell said...

oooooh. I love this. It's not strictly an aubade. But, it is a morning poem and the loveliness of the sky with the contrasting details of the black branches, monk and martyr really do sing of autumn. This poem is a keeper. I copied it to my notebook.

elli said...

Just lovely, Karen.

Linda B said...

It feels like all said at the end is one we should remember, and heed! "Freely accepting our one heedless glance." Thanks, Karen. This is lovely!

jama said...

Beautiful!! Reads like a prayer, meditation.

Alan j Wright said...

There is as you suggest, a quiet beauty in the words of this short poem, Karen. Thanks for sharing this evocative poem.

Mary Lee said...

I love how this poem disrupts its own ending, making us look long and hard at the sunset, rather thank just giving "one heedless glance." That's the power of poetry, and of the poet.

Fran Haley said...

In a word - glorious. I have noted recurring images in today's posts - geese, a cloak - this fascinates me, how inspiration falls upon us like a blanket. That grazing donkey catches at my heart - two of them used to live around the corner from me and now they are gone; I miss them. And this, this:

Like the maker of this wing-flooded golden sky,
Who forgives all our ignorance
Both of his nature and of his very name,
Freely accepting our one heedless glance.

I am deeply grateful for this poem and for your sharing it, Karen.

Karen Edmisten said...

I'm so happy to share this loveliness with you all. Each and every one of your comments felt like a balm to my soul, as did this poem. :)

Susan Bruck said...

Quiet loveliness really captures the essence of this poem--and what I long for. The sight and sound of the wild geese always calls me into a place of wonder, just as watching the goslings waddling around in the spring always makes me laugh.

Carol Varsalona said...

Thank you for the poem that makes me dig deeper into its words and images. I also like this line that popped out at me. "Like the maker of this wing-flooded golden sky."

Tabatha said...

That second stanza, wow! A beaut. xo

Karen Edmisten said...

Susan, your circling back to spring and waddling goslings made me smile. :)
Carol, that's a beautiful line!
And Tabatha, yes, the whole second stanza wowed me, too.

Thanks to all of you for stopping by. xo