The white dove has been
symbolic of abstract things.
I ask it to fly
far, put muscle on its wings.
Until recently the dove
atrophied inside
the skull. Now I’ve forced it out,
favoring strong emblems,
images too pure for doubt:
The Ark, the raven, the dove.
The raven flew the globe
but found no carrion worm.
Because of instinct
it was unable to confirm
any paradigm or thought.
Next the dove took flight
and, though it failed at first,
found a concrete
symbol to quench the parched Ark’s thirst:
one lonely olive leaf.
But even olive leaf
allows interpretation.
Each stronger symbol
creates its complication:
the skull, the Ark, leaf and bird.
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 7:12 PM UTC
The white dove has been
symbolic of abstract things.
I ask it to fly
far, put muscle on its wings.
Until recently the dove
atrophied inside
the skull. Now I’ve forced it out,
favoring strong emblems,
images too pure for doubt:
The Ark, the raven, the dove.
The raven flew the globe
but found no carrion worm.
Because of instinct
it was unable to confirm
any paradigm or thought.
Next the dove took flight
and, though it failed at first,
found a concrete
symbol to quench the parched Ark’s thirst:
one lonely olive leaf.
But even olive leaf
allows interpretation.
Each stronger symbol
creates its complication:
the skull, the Ark, leaf and bird.
This poem is about my stylistic movement away from abstract symbols into more definite ones, but then falls back on itself in the last stanza. I choose a concrete image from the Bible (i.e. Noah's raven and dove) that uses the abstract "dove" found in so many, many poems.
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