"Green" by D.H. Lawrence

The dawn was apple-green
The sky was green wine held up in the sun,
The moon was a golden petal between.

She opened her eyes, and green
They shone clear like flowers undone
For the first time, now for the first time seen

I have an insatiable love for D.H. Lawrence-- not to say I don't have an insatiable love for most writers-- but last night I was perusing this old anthology of poetry I took from the book shelf  in my mother's home years ago, a sort of ritual I have at night before I sleep, and I came back to this poem.  Again.

It is a well loved poem-- that much is obvious.  The page it is printed on has been dog-eared and a tiny, penciled in star adorns the title of the poem.  My handwriting-- small and cursive-- has been jammed into the margins of the book.  It is a poem that has been turned to time and time again, and perused for the sake of perusal.  The words have been imbibed by me, the image soaked into my subconscious.  There are so many implications to this piece, layered on top of the image-- vertically and horizontally.  I am often struck by the fact that I may never understand this piece and image as fully as I want to, but I think that is a part of the fun in poetry.

After reading this, or anything of note, I always sit back and wonder if I will ever have this level of mastery with words.  To be able to highlight the beauty in an action as mundane as waking up at dawn.