Beneath our boat
a swimming bear—
I tell myself to be afraid
but I’m too delighted
by its brown body,
elongated and sleek
moving like a wave itself
in the clear, clear water.
A marriage, too,
is a boat. Or is it
the bear?
Or is it the man
and the woman
in the boat,
watching beneath them
the most exquisite
dangerous thing,
something that could kill them
but chooses instead
grace.
But is there a corresponding distance, a likewise separation from the thing, with a marriage? Well, maybe if you were directly in the water, without the boat, as the bear swims underneath. But then, marriage would likely be the body of water itself which has the exquisite-dangerous passing languorously by at killing distance.
But, yes, I do agree about that scalpel-edge upon which a marriage can be poisedly balanced. Even the very ground that supports you/it, can slice and separate you.
“After Waking” from both the sleep-dream, and from the “other” sleep-dream we typically believe is real life. Yes.
That must have been a phenomenal experience if it really happened, the bear under the boat. Imagined, it’s still phenomenal. I admit, though, I wanted to hear more of the bear. Such a powerful figure in this poem.