[ 3 ]

July 8, 2012

The cicada must
Not forget its cocoon. Its
Baby is the sky.

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4 Responses to “[ 3 ]”

  1. John Stevens Says:

    Good morning Jim! We are reading each other’s blogs in parallel.
    This is intriguing and I’m going to let it sink into my mind.
    We don’t have cicadas here in the UK – well, not yet, but after a bit more climate change maybe …
    To be such a creature oneself is hard to imagine. Does the memory in fact allow the winged insect to remember its cocoon? Does the pupa have any foreknowledge of the stage to come in metamorphosis? While it is locked inside its cocoon, can it imagine the sky?
    Can we, when we too are boxed in, tunnelling along, blindly focused, ground down?
    Or, once we are free, do we recall the long hard waiting, the preparation, the uncertainty? Do we remember others who are still in that cocoon?
    When is a cicada not a cicada? When it is in a poem.

  2. Tom D'Evelyn Says:

    I’ll sit this one out!

  3. Thomas Davis Says:

    I have been ruminating like an old cow in a field over this one, Jim. It’s like so many of your poems, so beautiful when you first read it, but then it causes you to try to peel away layers so that it has an accessible meaning, and the exploration itself somehow becomes part of the poem. I love John’s comment, making the haiku the cicada which is the poem. The poem is also clearly about metamorphisis: cicada out of the cocoon, but how is its Baby the sky. By being in the sky, having its distinctive song that pierces the sky, birth the sky in some way? I have been chewing and chewing on this. Or is the sky a baby as in, how you doing, Baby? said the young man to the young girl. This is so intriguing, and I trust your instinct as a poet so much, that I am still ruminating, asking John’s questions as well as my own.

  4. Thomas Davis Says:

    My one sentence should have read: By being in the sky, having its distinctive song that pierces the sky, does the cicada that must remember its cocoon birth the sky in some way? Sorry for the lack of any sense of syntax.


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