Veritas

by Eve Castle

In that verge, when closed eyes sense morning
and deepness lingers like the scent of fresh washed hair
she arrives and whispers along my skin.

I lie still like a bandit
listening to my knowing breath
seeing beyond clouds

but clarity is the startled sparrow
taking wing, its song fading into mist.

This is one of my oldest poems. I actually took this one to a couple of poetry workshops and got some feedback. There was discussion about whether the bird referred to was a song bird (the original bird I had in the poem was a swallow) and at that time I also had a line "aware of my thirst" just after the line "seeing beyond clouds." I dropped the thirst line later, but even before that, I did change the bird from swallow to sparrow to remove any thought of the act done with the mouth/throat ("her" arrival is very sensual and I didn't want to continue to promote that line of thought - yes, there were of course men interpreting the poem at the workshop! Pretty typical, at least from my experience.) In any case, the actual inspiration for this poem did come to me one morning in my bed and it hasn't changed much from the initial order it arrived in.

One point made at the workshop that I resisted until much later was the use of the word truth. I originally had "a truth arrives" and the word 'truth' and its relationship to 'clarity' later in the poem was discussed.

Also, I realize that it is more common to hear the word verge as "on the verge" but I prefer "in that verge" because to me that is more intimate and that's the sense I want here, that this is a very intimate moment. This is one of the reasons I used first person as well.

What is the moment? The moment that something becomes totally clear... a moment of certainty/clarity... a moment where truth is plain or clear. I lie still (like a bandit - something of value has my attention), I listen to my "knowing" breath (this breath is different due to the clarity/truth that has arrived), I see beyond clouds (things that are in the way or things that make something difficult or unclear). I am "on the brink" in that moment (original title was On The Brink) but that moment of clarity, the moment that whispered along my skin... soon flies away... veritas (little truths). One can also see this as arrival of the muse, that moment that is so clear, where truth fills you.

This poem was published in a chap book, Gabe's Poets Still Searching, December 2009.