One of the loveliest spots in my home is the window seat. In the winter, the radiator does its work through the wood, and it is warm and snug. At this time of year, as you sit you are surrounded by flowers, and every day you see something new opening.
This poem is a poem of waking up. To begin with, the life of the world seems far away, on the other side of glass. Gradually, though, I begin to see.
Sitting on the window seat, in this box of light,
I drink warm, bitter coffee, my mind waking slowly from sleep.
There is a fly buzzing against the glass, black and slow,
not getting through. On the other side is the cool sun,
the flowerheads and flowerbuds swaying in the breeze,
their stems crossing and crisscrossing in straight green lines,
Making rhomboids, diamonds of the brightness.
And so I sit here, as if among the flowers,
not feeling the breeze, not catching the scent.
There are the bright, tissue paper flames of poppies,
and the soft deep pinks of the columbine,
dove among flowers,
And the euphorbia – black with bees –
their green flowers full of sweetness.
But there, suddenly, are the tall spikes of Jacob’s ladder,
new dazzling white, startling, perfect.
They must have opened early while I slept.
Those flowers – small, spread out skirts
of pure white, anthers gold with pollen,
the delicate deep ring of purple veins –
drawing you deep to the green-dark heart of the flower,
curled, mysterious, where the heavy bee probes
for nectar as sweet as the honey yet to come.
Angels ascending and descending,
ascending and descending
as the stiff green stems are swaying,
are still swaying in the cool breeze. The day begins.
The name of this plant calls to mind the story of Jacob in Genesis, which is also a story of coming to see, of waking up.
Here is my retelling from The Bible Retold, the text shared by The Lion Classic Bible
Jacob went alone, travelling unitl it was dark. Shivering in the chill of the desert night, he took a stone for a pillow, and lay down to sleep. As Jacob slept, a dream came to him. He saw a ladder, with its feet on the ground, stretching up and up to heaven. In his dream, he watched as God’s bright angels travelled up and down in between heaven and earth. And in his dream, God himself was there.
Jacob woke with a jolt and looked around. He was alone.
“God was here and I didn’t know it! This place is the gate of heaven!” he said Then he took the stone he had slept upon and set it up as an altar to God. He poured oil on it as an offering, and worshipped there.
You can read the Genesis story here
Help us, like Jacob, dream of angels.
Help us, wherever we wake,
to know that you are there, too.
Help us to see with new eyes.