A weighty piece, which I would call ponderous if not for the unfortunate state of that term, burdened as it is with negative connotations. For this is a heavy poem that makes you ponder.
Multiple read-throughs yield some interesting speculations and alternative interpretations. The piece itself comes off well-thought out and tightly written, so I likely won't propose any alterations but instead focus on my impressions. I'll even include the more outlandish wanderings of mind the poem provoked. ;-)
>I stare heavenward.
Above me, a cavernous ceiling.
Above me, all is overcast and grey.
I pass beneath.
My favorite part about this bit is the cavernous expanse above being described as "overcast and grey." I can picture a massive subterranean space so large it has its own (quite dreary) atmosphere.
>I look down at my charge,
her eyes closed,
hands crossed,
white and still.
The repetition of the "cl" sound is nice here, intertwined with the S's that follow. Though I glimpsed it only on later reading passes where I formulated my somewhat odd view of this poem, the word "charge" is so associated with energy, electrical or otherwise, that it imbues these lines with a sense of potential energy. This atmosphere is not merely dreary, there is something buzzing beneath the surface.
>I ferry us down
the dark river,
to the silent lands,
for safe keeping.
In reading this I wonder, are the soft sounds the river must make the final audible vestiges of the mortal world? I almost picture color also leaking out of the world on the journey to this silent place. "Safe keeping" is also integral to my view on this piece. But I'll get to that later.
>My Lady in White,
you will be safe there.
No Prince Charming will come crashing,
to wake you, to take you, by force.
I think this is where we get into the meat of the message. What came before was painting vividly the scene, and foreshadowing. Death, dissolution, is being equated with safety. For all life is a matter of risk and reward, choice and consequence. It is also being equated with peace, and life with struggle (by force). But is this a stagnant serenity?
>I look towards the gates,
with their three-headed guardian.
We will be safe,
once I commit you.
These lines intrigue me. Particularly the use of the term commit. One the one hand this can be the ferryman simply delivering his charge to sanctuary. On the other, it brings associations of contracts, commitments, promises: is this a purgatorial "lesser life," still binding as the fleshly existence?
>I will be safe there.
Life will not come crashing,
to wake me, to take me.
The important part here is "I will be safe here," not before stated. Also, it is made plain that this is an allegory regarding the vicissitudes of Life itself, with its constant conflicts and crashes. Notably, the phrase "by force" has been omitted, a good choice, I think. "Crashing" conveys enough of a forceful, chaotic sense.
>I will be safe there.
Heart closed,
white and still—
These lines say more than they first appear. White and still was used also to describe the Lady in White. Is this a metaphysical statement about the unity of the dead, divorced from the egoic illusion of separateness? The Heart is closed, but what is it's status? Is it in suspension, sleeping through silent aeons? Is it dissolved, transformed? I find these lines raise more questions than they answer, in my read.
>for love lies dead.
I separated this final line, knowing it is integral to the three lines that precede it. Because (and this may be controversial) I do not find it a conclusion, but the beginning of a fuller interpretation.
"Love lies dead," is this a dark and nihilistic prescription? Can it be, when death is being likened to peace and safety throughout the poem? The lady in white also lies white and still: is her heart closed, as well? And though the heart be closed, that doesn't mean it is empty.
Is this a story about the vibrance of the heart being put in stasis, the ecstatic charge of life preserved therein? Now that love lies dead, perhaps it can express its atemporal nature, freed from the limitations of the living.
