We are too far from dust
in this high bed for dreaming.
I am no princess, sleepless
for the sake of a cowpea
under a mountain of mattresses.
Make love to me
on sisal.
Twigs and all, let me sleep close to earth,
body shaped to spoon the grasp
of this planet. Let me remember
in gravity what I am made of and what owns me.
Let me be reminded of the mud
I will become.
**the beginning of something bigger, I think.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Embracing mortality, perhaps? Or celebrating our connection with the earth? We grow so very distant from our origins, don’t we? And then spend year after year striving for definition, for meaning. Perhaps Wordsworth and Keats and Shelley were right. Surrounded by my nondescript concrete domain, how can I know where I truly belong? I long for forests, for trees, for the breath of the earth untainted.
That’s it, exactly, George. Embracing who we are, where we came from, and what we will be. George, I think you are my brother from another set of parents–I am hungry for what grows, not what is made–or perhaps what I mean to say is I am in need of inclusion of it within my concrete walls. or at least just within reach outside them.
Susan, I am honored to be brother to such an intelligent, caring, and thoughtful woman. One thing I have missed particularly in separating my life and moving into an apartment has been the garden–a place of dirt and plants where I could reach into the earth, feel the soil on my skin. I miss the touch of the earth in my life. I know I must leave from here, if only because I cannot stretch out my roots through the concrete.
Thank you, George. I understand that need for the soil completely.
From mud to nothing. Mortality embraced opens the doorway to eternity. Thanks for this one. alice
Thank you, Alice 😉
I think we can learn a lot, just by remembering we are mortal, part of the cycle and not above it.
Absolutely. 🙂
I love all the earthy, organic, sensual imagery, and the progression (if it can be called such) from dust to mud.
Very interesting poem, darling.
Oh, thank you, Helena!
Very interesting concept 🙂 Thanks for this, Susan!
Thank you!
making love on sisal…love the grounded-ness in this susan…Let me remember
in gravity what I am made of and what owns me…. earthy and beautifully sensual..
Thanks, Claudia–going back to the elemental building blocks of us in this one 😉
dang…this is really good…esp last last bit…reminded of the mud we become….spooned in the planet…those last 2 stanzas have such an intimacy with nature and our world….really love that…
Brian, thank you. That’s what I was aiming for, nature/world as a lover. So glad it worked for you!
I’ll pass on the sisal.
Need all those matresses and preferably a bit of goosedown.:-)
aprille.me
😉 either one sound good for a nap right about now!
From dust we came …
and to dust we shall return; there’s no avoiding it. Perhaps if we embraced our mortality we would live different lives … and the world might be a better place. instead, many of us live in permanent denial, right up to the moment that death calls on us.
Yes, we do. And it is a shame, the waste of living through denial or repression.
body shaped to spoon the grasp
of this planet.
I love the elemental nature of this piece–and would love to see what it evolves into for you
Thanks, Audrey–and you will1
oh so good
Thank you, Paul.
Good write, Susan.
Thanks, Ayala!
I love this Susan!
Laurie, thanks so much!
Strong writing, Susan. Yes, we all have to keep in mind that we will eventually become MUD. This definitely stops us from getting an attitude of self importance.
Hah–yes, exactly!
let us know our truth and sleep close to the earth… thank you
Thank you, Tracy. Can’t get closer to the truth than sleeping there, I think.
I agree Susan… Evocative writing – especially liked: “let me sleep close to earth,
body shaped to spoon the grasp
of this planet.” You can go on from here…
Thanks, Scott. I agree, it can go other places, still.
Mud, onward… what of a billion, two billion, ten billion years from now? What awaits this trillion atoms in us?
The possibilities are endless.
very much in like of this so far
Aw, thank you, Chris! I think it can go farther, though.
if this ends here then i am in very much like in totality lol
A very profound piece here in subtle expressions! get back to the mud from where we began. I found this very powerful!
Thanks, Akila!
Yes, definitely bigger.
Thanks, Jules. Yes, I think this can stretch farther.
oooh Susan, this is marvellous! the second stanza blew me away… totally.
PLEASE more of this… please… please?
Definitely more, Miriam! What is mud but a mix of stardust and water?
🙂
This is amazing Susan. I have to admit that “making love on sisal” gave me rug burns just thinking about it. 🙂
Hee, hee. I can think of nothing better to burn about, or on, or whatever 😉
Part of the earth, part of something bigger. Love where your poem took us. Well penned!
Thank you, Ginny.
awesome. i love the people made of earth creation stories, and the tactile sensuality of your words
Thank you, Ray. I too am in love with/in awe of those stories.
“Make love to me on sisal.” – love that phrase! Very down to earth and most definitely the base to build somethign bigger.
Oh, thanks, JC!
suffused and infused with spirit and soul.
Aw, thanks, Deb!
What an interesting thought
Thank you!
Reminds me of my subconcious desire to return to the earth. I really like your style. 🙂
Oh, thank you, Stephanie!
So earthy.
Feels profound and gruesome at the same time. I’ll have to think about that. Thanks for making me think!
Oooohhh–I like that. Profound and gruesome–profoundly gruesome. I like that lots 😉
I love this–there’s a wonderful simplicity about the words you’ve chosen. So specific in their sounds, yet universal with regards to hitting that part of us that yearns to ponder our own mortality.
beautiful…keep close to Mother Earth and to each other…
Close to the bone IS close to the earth.
The best sleep I ever had was on a futon on the floor. You really have to get UP.
Second best. On the ground in a tent. Lumps and all.
You SO understand this one, JCC.
I imagine I speak for many when I say that I am missing your poetic voice right now, Susan.
Aw, thanks, Jeremy. Just need some recharge time 😉
I know what you mean. I just thought you’d like to know that I miss your poetry.
And by the way. I love that “Keriah” is BHII. I love that piece.
Thanks, Jeremy. Glad to be included, and I think the batteries are recharged.
Where are you?
Recharging…
😉
I understand. Be good.
Let me be reminded of the mud
I will become.. earth to earth.. Brilliant and profound poem. ……….Susan, what’s up? I miss you so. Hope you are doing fine. 🙂
Hey, Celestine! I’m fine–just needed a break from the electronic world for a while.
Really like this, Susan…spooning with Mother Earth…great image!
Thank you, Leo!
Being not so far from dust as you, as I, it is good to fantasize of “something bigger”…
Oh, it is nice, and we will know once we get there.