Betrayals of the Sun (a poem)
A new poem for the recent solar eclipse
Betrayals of the Sun
What does it feel like for a little child
When a younger sibling arrives too soon?
The world still a wide open prairie refracts
affections, attentions rendering darker
her world in unpredicted shadows
What does it feel like for an arranged bride
to find her husband longing for another?
Chained to her shining jewels, her tentative feet
cross in trembling step over his threshold
wondering if he’ll spare her any light
What does it feel like when we find those
we pinned our hopes on can’t be ours?
Marked rocks or planets or suns
whose cores came undone,
light eclipsed by treacherous moons
What if we’re lost in galactic darkness
when this road assumes the path of totality?
What if we lit a candle of ancient fuel
from wax trapped within the earth
that captured the sun itself eons ago?
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reena | 04.08.24
I was one of the few weirdos who was not obsessed with the recent solar eclipse. Being in the CA Bay Area there wasn’t much to see and no, I didn’t rush off elsewhere to view it; although I did appreciate the fascinating photos I got to see as a result of the phenomenon.
Instead the eclipse — including the madness it induced — made me think of the various myths and superstitions that surround eclipses. In India, where I grew up eclipses were considered bad omens for forthcoming disasters. Many ancient cultures share similar notions including those of warring or angry gods.
I’m fascinated by what created these notions. Think about how alarming it must have been to be suddenly left in the dark, to find the most powerful and nurturing source of heat and light in your life disappeared — even partially. And to wonder if or when the light may return.
Worse, what if you went looking for it, desperately searching the sky with your naked eye, only to find you’d been blinded by the quest itself? How the ancients may have shivered at the entire phenomenon!
These thoughts of course left me thinking about the eclipses of life that can leave us bereft, a few of which I talk about in my poem.
And yet with that sombre contemplation about darkness that may arrive from factors outside our control, came also this idea that even in the pitch dark we could light a candle of wax or an oil lamp, utilizing old, trapped energy of the elusive Sun itself. In the way our inner resilience, which may come from having experienced love and hope at any point in our past, could give us the strength to go on even in the face of a darkening sky.
That’s where this poem came from. Where do you reclaim your heat and light when darkness threatens?
Extra!
I’m delighted to report that one of my old 100-word stories has been selected by a Literary Journal for publication. I’ll post the link when it comes out next month, but it’s this story, in case you missed it before…
Listen to their words
Listen to their words When we reached the top of the hill we saw an ascetic in simple robes meditating there. Curious, we approached him. He told us he’d lived there for two years. He’d given up his materialistic life for sanyas, Hinduism’s fourth stage* of life where humans are urged to focus …
What stood out for me in the poem was the lack of agency. Very poignant, Reena! Congratulations on the acceptance!
Reena, I really like the insights in this poem about the "eclipses of life that can leave us bereft." I also didn't do anything for the eclipse; I feel more interested now that you've introduced me to these more human and abstract eclipses!
And congrats on the publication! How appropriate that on Mother's Day, you share that a poem about your mother will be published!