Freada Dillon

Moonrise Sonnet


"…compare thee to a Summer's day?"
Oh, please! More like a glacial bay
whose visage shifts to groan and grate
with tides that surge then dissipate.
Cold comfort, sun: moonrise for me.
I'll stay and bask in moon glow: be
so silver-streaked, moon lightened, striven,
to wax and wane. I'm lunar driven.
You crave to thaw my frozen touch?
Beware! This moon's dark side is such
that braver men than you have died
in the attempt. Be warned, or pride
will be the death of you as well.
Small comfort. There is warmth in hell.





"And what if all of animated nature,
Be but organic Harps diversely fram'd,
That tremble into thought, as o'er them sweeps
Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze,
At once the soul of each, and God of all?"

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Eolian Harp

The Harpist


How could he know,
how perceive the very dance of life
whilst in poetic idyll?

One intellectual breeze that sets up a vibration
as skitters down the eons
a-dance in double helix waltz.
So entwined from molecule to Milky Way:
faint kiss of a whisper
grown into the Music of the Spheres.

How could he know?

Primordial seas fired by tectonics
churned by solar winds
send crashing walls of water,
spume high as mountains
become becalmed and languorous
lapping shoreward,
sending forth first spray
then mist born upward to rise
into the atmosphere
coalesce
dissipate
distill into droplets
that gather to freshet
brooklet
rivulet
stream
river
raging torrent
that forms and shapes mountain
canyon
rock
stone
pebble
granule.
And each granule myriad molecules vibrating in a dance
with choreography known only to the helix
and the Source of the sigh.

How could he know, and so express this reality
known even now to chosen fellows of artful science
and certain mad poets at idyll.




Freada Dillon: I am manic-depressive and most of my poetry is an attempt to help others see the world from my perspective. I was born and raised in Pensacola, Florida, and traveled throughout the southern U.S. while raising 4 children. I have lived and worked in Metro-Atlanta for almost 2 decades. During this time I served on the staffs of Habitat for Humanity in Atlanta, The Atlanta College of Art at Woodruff Arts Center, and The High Museum of Art.

Currently, I am the Poetry Editor for Beginnings Publishing. The web site that accompanies our print magazine may be found at www.scbeginnings.com.

My doctor is convinced in order to be a truly gifted poet, one must be bi-polar. Who am I to disagree? However, this gift has exacted its toll.

Most days I may be found at my computer keyboard or my sketchpad. Self-statement has become a fulltime pursuit. I am working on several collections of poetry and flash fiction pieces.




Melisande Luna Kristine Karinen Richard Jordan Freada Dillon Dave Ruslander Jennifer Arbour