by Teresa Williams
Joseph Mallord William Turner from St. Gotthard & Mont Blanc
Sketchbook [Finberg LXXV], The Devil’s Bridge, near Andermatt,
Pass of St. Gotthard, Switzerland, 1802.
*The Devil’s Bridge
Blue twilight
of ash
washing
the weathered mountains,
a single goat-bell
clangs
disrupting
the high silence.
The traveller stops
in the middle
of the narrow stone bridge,
her listening is
lonely.
Beneath
the bridge,
dark water
rushes and falls;
tangled serpents
pushing
the frenzied depths
of time’s black core
down
the ravine’s
bottomless hollow;
a night heron
swoops over
the churning,
red eye widening
seeing through
to the place
where the snakes
lie still.
A sudden wind
blows
from the nostrils
of the mountain,
as if
to extinguish
all hesitation,
dark rocks
crumble down
filling the air
with a scoured-out echo
that waits
for what must cross.
The traveller steps forward
calls out,
no response
no sign
for what it is
she wants to know;
who made the bridge
and is she
the first to cross it?
The twilight
deepens, quickens
the pause;
the traveller looks ahead
her eyes fierce
and determined,
she steps forward
again
and the cold light
leads her
further than she
ever imagined
and
without turning back
she enters
a new silence;
it is in the not knowing
that makes her cross
it is in the knowing
that stops her.
*Legends tell us that bridges throughout the British Isles, Scandinavia, and continental Europe were built by the devil in return for the sacrifice of the first being to cross over.
_________________________
About Teresa: Teresa Williams is a psychotherapist, poet and translator in Seattle, Washington. She has been writing and trying to live poetry for as long as she can remember. Her love for travel and the Spanish language has called her into translation work. She is also an active member of Grupo Cervantes, a bilingual writer’s group and literary community in Seattle.
Teresa’s poetry has been featured at births, weddings, funerals and several talent shows held by the closest of friends. Her first piece on red Ravine, Sound Falling From One World Into Another, was published in August 2010 and featured the poems: Swans, Two Coyotes at Dawn, and Tarot.
Surfing the waves of the web I am pleasantly stranded in this beautiful blog.
I write under the pseudonym of Josè Pascal (a descendant of the great Colonel Aureliano Buendía).
I invite you to visit my italian writing blog parolesemplici.wordpress.com. I define this blog “In parole Semplici” as a “virtuacultural tin” box where they are guarded thoughts, memories, images, sounds, and simple stories. ”
If you want to participate and to have more informations send me a letter to inparolesempli@gmail.com
Good life and I hope to soon
Josè
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Oh! My goodness, this is so gorgeous. I honestly feel my breathe quicken as I read to the end. I have such a deep fear of heights and tall bridges, which we’ve written about on red Ravine. I also immediately thought of The Bridge of San Luis Rey, which I read last year (thanks to Teri).
Your note about the myth of the bridges makes me wonder if that’s been passed down, almost by osmosis, making us all the more fearful of these narrow crossings. Or is it the narrowness, their height, the unnaturalness of passing over areas that were meant not to be crossed, that brought about the myth.
Bridges. A great topic for writing.
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I loved many passages, but this one…wow!
A sudden wind
blows
from the nostrils
of the mountain,
as if
to extinguish
all hesitation,
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Teresa,
The way you write poetry makes me see it and feel it immediately. I’ve often felt like the traveler in the first paragraph–listening to something when no one is around. Lonely listening.
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What an amazing piece! I really, really, identify with it, move with it, am feeling through it. Thank-you so much for sharing.
This is a wonderful way to start the day – to examine the bridge before me and feel my, move my, sense my (and then completely let go of Me, My, and all my other attachments) way through the not knowing…
What a gift. Thank-you.
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Ybonesy and Sinclair
Yes, I think bridges are powerful metaphors and in real life, definately make you ponder what you are crossing and where you might be going on the other side. Glad to hear you both had a visceral experience with it. I found this painting in a book called “Paintings in Proust”. If you haven’t seen it, you should check it out. It includes all the paintings he refers to in “In Search of Lost Time”.
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Felicitaciones Teresa. Es un poema que impresiona tal como la pintura. Cuando se lee, uno viaja con el asombro, la profundidad del abismo y hasta el temor a lo deconocido.
Quedo a la espera de los poemas que siguen…
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Lindsay,
Happy this spoke to you. I’ve noticed how the symbol/metaphor of the bridge has changed for me each time I reflect on this poem. Sometimes I think of it as something very internal, like a bridge crossing between the unconscious parts of myself toward the more conscious. And other times I think of it as an actual reality…the ways in which I am trying to take risks and find crossings toward new futures, new possibilities and unknowns.
Javier,
Gracias por tu comentario. Aprecio, siempre tus palabras amables. El temor a lo deconocido es tambien ser vivo, lleno de energia y excitacion!
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T-
Thank you for sharing yourself. When I first saw the photo I thought of the “carnal grounds” that we people seem to spend much time in – especially in those narrow passages of our lives when the world seems to narrow to only one crossing, one path forward. I like the part about entering into a new silence because that is what any dramatic change in my life has brought – at least for a time – and I would imagine death would be the same. I am not sure that I relate to the “knowing stops her”. In my own experience the knowing that follows not knowing is illuminous and expansive at least for some time until it too stagnates and then leads, once again, to “stopping”. What a gift of inspiration, pause and reflection. A hug to you from Port Angeles where I am sitting in a hotel in between work meetings.
-Carol
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Carol,
Good to hear from you, way over there in Port Angeles. I think the part about “the knowing stops her” and the “not knowing” takes her forward, is more about how sometimes in the process of making changes we have to hover in the knowing/not knowing place. We take a few steps forward, pause, freak out, step forward, pause, etc. If we know that changes involve risk, pain, letting go of attachments, then this can be hard to move forward, even if “we know” it’s the right direction.
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Teresa, this is a beautiful poem. It gave me chills from the thrill of its mystery and mythology. I am with yb as well:
A sudden wind
blows
from the nostrils
of the mountain,
as if
to extinguish
all hesitation,
Those are my favorite lines, so it’s really neat to see someone else liking the same thing. 8)
You also hit on two things that are major themes in everyone’s life: TRAVEL and BRIDGES. I think those two are very symbolic. Hmm, it makes me wonderful if I should too write a poem about traveling and bridges, or traveling over a bridge, etc. There are so many dimensions to explore! Thanks for sharing your poem, Teresa.
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Very interesting. It has sort of a sinister feel. I wonder how much has to do with the picture that sets the tone.
Dwayne
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Teresa,
I love the atmosphere of your poem. It conjures up memeories of paths I’ve taken, externally and internally, throughout my life (and some I wish I’d been brave enough to take!)
In Scotland, we have a belief that evil spirits cannot cross rivers or streams. I was reminded of this at a Burns Supper the other night when I listened to someone recite ‘Tam o’Shanter’. Fortunately, Tam makes it over the bridge but poor Meg, his horse, is left without a tail… it’s a very long story 🙂
Thank you for sharing your wonderful poem, I look forward to reading more of them.
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Thanks to annieoakcake, Dwayne, A-Lotus for reading and your comments. If you have further interest, look into some of the fairytales/myths about the Devi’ls Bridge. I was surprised at how many there were and the variations on how people tried to trick the Devil in order to make it across safely. Yesterday, at the end of my day, I was waiting for one of our bridges to go up so that a boat could go through the channel. At that moment I thought about the possibility of going under the bridge and what that might mean.
The painting does have a dark feel to it. Sometimes entering the unknown can have that quality to it. You don’t know if you are being tricked, if it is an illusion, if there is something dangerous you need to be worried about. And yet, our attitude and perspective can change everything in an instant.
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My favorite part of the poem is the last few lines:
it is in the not knowing
that makes her cross
it is in the knowing
that stops her.
It made me think of how many times I have not crossed a bridge in my life because of the unknown. In recent years I have tried to be more like the Fool in the Tarot deck who, in his not knowing, will step off the precipice into…what? He doesn’t know and has no idea.
Beautiful poem.
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Transportational work T! I could instantly draw forth that blue twilight ash washing the mountains and felt the impending chill.
Love the idea of the water fall as snakes, and the ‘other’ who can see the snakes that are hidden to me.
I agree with Dwayne – very foreboding moment. I was relieved when she crossed.
Thanks for sharing this!
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Bob,
I can certainly relate to being the Fool in the Tarot deck…I’m not sure I have “tried” to be that, it has just happened to me and I’ve had to deal with the consequences of it. But ultimately, life is more interesting when we don’t know the outcome of things (like we sometimes think we can know or control) and see our unique responses to what happens. I guess it is a combination of moving forward with intelligence, discernment and then letting go, laughing, finding a sense of playfulness in how it all turns out. (Best case scenario!)
Mark – Yes, that waterfall, at least on level, represents for me the transformational aspects of the underworld, fears, darkness, chaos. And yet, there is something else that can see and know and find stillness underneath it all.
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Teresa, wonderful comments on your poetry. I was drawn in by the mythology surrounding the devil and bridges. I had not heard it before reading your poem. The lines that resonate with me are the last:
she enters
a new silence;
it is in the not knowing
that makes her cross
it is in the knowing
that stops her.
I can relate to “not knowing.” To me, it is Beginner’s Mind. The “knowing” for me is trying to will things to happen, or control what happens, based on intelligence or knowledge. Life just doesn’t work that way. I tend to take more risks when I don’t know. But it’s a bigger leap of faith.
Thank you so much for sharing your poetry on red Ravine. It’s wonderful to read the responses, the ways people have been moved.
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Oh, Bob & Teresa, around the Fool in the Tarot deck, I just have to mention one other serendipitous thing that happened. Last night we went out to dinner for Liz’s pre-birthday celebration and ended up at True Colors Bookstore (formerly Amazon Books). Liz spotted the Motherpeace Tarot deck (she had found the Motherpeace Tarot book used at a garage sale and wanted to buy the cards). I don’t know if people remember that particular deck, but it was a big deal to feminists to have images that were less stereotypical. It’s also round rather than rectangular.
To make a long story short, Liz bought the deck. When we got home, we pulled cards. Liz drew the 7 of Cups; I drew the Fool. I immediately thought of the comments here. I used to pull Tarot every day and read the cards. One of the readings I did way back then was for the archetypes of my life this time around. One of my archetypes is The Fool. I have great respect for that jumping off leg of the journey. 8)
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Teresa,
I just wanted to let you know that your poem inspired me to write my own mythology-type poem. I turned mine into a haiga though. 8)
http://alotus-poetry.livejournal.com/106542.html
Enjoy! And thanks! 🙂
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A~Lotus,
I just read your poem this morning and it gives me chills. That photograph is perfect for it. You reminded me about how important that book, Autobiography of Yoga, had been for me at one point in my life. Your poem also touches in on that magical quality of the imaginal realm and how so many things are possible there (and outside of it too). Our overly rationalistic world can make us forget the depths that we are all a part of and have access too, especially through creativity.
QuionMonkey,
Beginner’s Mind, it is so much easier and ultimately more delightful when we can approach life from this place isn’t it? When we think we know too much, we get frozen and lost in all our concepts about things and in controlling the outcome. Saying this triggered some words by Pema Chodron: she calls the open spacious, beginner’s mind the function of “water logic” and the solidfying controlling state of mind, “rock logic”. Those images help me sometimes when I am unable to shift.
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Teresa,
it’s so great to read your poem and all the conversation that has come out of it.
the poem is cool, the painting and then the way the words dive straight down in the the chasm. being on the edge of rock, earth, something apparently solid and then deciding to take a step forward or a leap into the unknown. all the ways that we try to make it safe and risk-free…
thank you.
Carrie
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Teresa,
I think I must have read your comment at least 3 times. Your response is incredibly poetic. I think AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A YOGI is a book that everyone should read. I’ve never heard of it until I started taking yoga lessons, and now I think it’s a great thing that I’ve come across this book at a time when I am deepening my own religious and spiritual path after struggling so much with myself and being in pain this past year.
“Our overly rationalistic world can make us forget the depths that we are all a part of and have access too, especially through creativity.” Spoken like a sage, Teresa. 🙂 Just reading this is magical. I think magic links with the spiritual (and even religious) realms as well to make anything and everything possible. The foundation of these realms is believing in them (faith) and like you said, realizing that we are all a part of those paths.
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Carrie,
Thanks for reading and for giving me the beautiful book with the painting that inspired the poem. Yes, we do spend a lot of time trying to make things safe for our travels in this life, and we have to if we want to survive. Yet, we also have to let go sometimes and trust in the groundlessness of the unknown. A life long practice of discernment is required. I hope to get a little more graceful with this as the years continue to pass.
A~Lotus,
Sweet acknowledgement….glad my words spoke to you. I too, am in a place of developing my ability to access those other realms and trusting that they there for all of us to experience.
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[…] in August 2010 and featured the poems: Swans, Two Coyotes at Dawn, and Tarot. Her last piece, The Devil’s Bridge, speaks to the legends and mythology surrounding bridges throughout the British Isles, Scandinavia, […]
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[…] in August 2010 and featured the poems: Swans, Two Coyotes at Dawn, and Tarot. It was followed by The Devil’s Bridge, a poem that speaks to the legends and mythology surrounding bridges throughout the British Isles, […]
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